


I Need Another Perfect Lie (ON HIATUS)

by BazzyBelle



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bros getting drunk, But they're the kind of bros that are in love, Confused Niall, Dev and Niall are dummies, Drunk!Dev, Drunken Flirting, Finding comfort, Friends to Lovers, Hidden Feelings, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pining, Semi-love confessions, Spoilers for Carry On, Takes place during Book 1 of Carry On, Takes place during Carry On, Tipsy!Niall, but there's a lot of fighting, confronting our feelings, sad Dev
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22389025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BazzyBelle/pseuds/BazzyBelle
Summary: I have never felt so isolated from my friends before. I tried to keep in contact with Dev and Baz and we would touch base with each other, but at one point, nearly all communication stopped. With Baz, the lack of communication made sense. He is usually less talkative towards the end of the holiday. But even Dev was uncharacteristically quiet. The closer we got to the beginning of school, the less I heard from him. I had tried messaging Baz to ask him if he knew what was up with Dev, but heard nothing from him either.This final year at Watford begins with a flurry of questions. Why have Niall's best friends been avoiding him over the summer? What will happen to happen to Dev's family now that tensions have risen between the Old Families and the Mage? (What happens when you realize you might have accidentally fallen for your best friend?) And where the fresh hellISBaz Pitch?Can Dev and Niall stop dodging these questions, Simon Snow, and each other long enough to figure out the answers (and perhaps even their true feelings)? Can they let go of what is expected of them to figure out what they truly want?
Relationships: Dev & Niall & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Dev/Niall (Simon Snow)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [f-ing-ruthless-baz (f_ing_ruthless_baz)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/f_ing_ruthless_baz/gifts), [giishu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/giishu/gifts).



> This story is whole series of firsts for me, so I'm very nervous to start posting it. It's my first multi-chapter story, first attempt at a slow-burn (though I think I'm very iffy at it still), first attempt at writing DeNiall... etc. 
> 
> I had never even considered DeNiall before, but then I read [Black Sheep](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21333967/chapters/50809666) by [f-ing-ruthless-baz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_mad_fatuation/pseuds/f-ing-ruthless-baz) and I was converted. (Please read this story! It is wonderful!)
> 
> This story will be updated weekly (hopefully around the same time each week). I have all my chapters outlined (in extreme detail, because I'm just like that) and up to Chapter 4 written. 
> 
> Thank you to f-ing-ruthless-baz and giishu (thank you, giishu for helping me with this summary, you are an angel) for listening to me non-stop about this story and thank you to tbazzsnow for the amazing beta-reading (as well as the helpful commentary). Love you all!
> 
> Title adapted from the OneRepublic song "Secrets".

**NIALL**

The summer was bloody rubbish. 

That’s all I can think about as Mum’s car pulls up to the road that leads to Watford. She never drives up to the main gate, so I am stuck walking down this dirt road, my little brother, Sean in tow. It is my final year at Watford School of Magicks, and his first. One would think that she would want to spend as much time as possible with us, but my mother is a person who marches to the beat of her own drum. As such, I am here, lugging my bags, making sure Sean keeps up a steady pace behind me. 

We don’t have much walking to do, thank Merlin for that. Since Sean is too nervous about his first day to even speak a word to me, I let my mind wander a little. 

The summers are always rubbish since my parents’ divorce, and that was four years ago. You would think that after doing the same song and dance for four years that they would have their issues sorted out and could behave like adults. Sadly, that isn’t the case with my parents. 

Well, my mum’s pretty well-behaved at this point. I rather enjoy the weeks I spend with her. We get along well enough and she’s a good person to talk to. In fact, I prefer spending my time with Mum. I was glad that I got to end the summer holiday with her, instead of my father. 

My father is… difficult to say the least. 

Let me rephrase that. The man is an absolute prick at times. This last summer being no exception. 

From the moment my brother and I arrived at his estate, until we left, he complained. He complained about trying to manage funds with us there. He complained every time I left the house (which was often, because I had better things to do than listen to him). He especially loved complaining about the shame my mother brought upon his name by not only divorcing him, but for starting a new relationship with a  _ NORMAL _ of all people. 

If only he knew about the Normals _ I’ve _ dated. I think the fact that they’ve been Normals would give him a coronary more so than any other factor. So I keep my dating preferences to myself… at least for now.

The only good thing about starting the summer with my father, is that I can spend time with Dev and Baz. We typically spend most of our time at the club, but I’ve been wanting to go there less and less. Since the divorce, I’ve been getting a bit of a rough time from some of the members there. It seems the fact that my parents are divorced makes me less of a magician. It doesn’t help that Mum’s dating a Normal (something I will never blame her for, Edward’s a good bloke and she’s never been happier). It seems some of the people I’ve known my whole life suddenly think less of me because of these circumstances. Now with the war between the Old Families and the Mage brewing, these sentiments have only gotten worse. In fact, the last time I went to the club with Baz and Dev, they nearly started a tussle with some of the lads (well Dev almost did... Baz prefers to use his words, and he had some rather colourful insults that day) who refused to let me inside. That incident occurred at the beginning of the summer and I had refused to go back to that place. It was easier to spend time at each other’s houses, anyway. 

Dev and Baz would continue to go, especially once I was back with my mum. I understood why, at the time. They had appearances to keep up (Dev being a Grimm, and Baz, a Pitch). I tried not to let it bother me too much, but I can't help but wonder sometimes if they agree with the club mentalities. I've had to call them both out on their "ridiculously posh" opinions before. 

I don’t see Dev and Baz as often when I’m with my mother. Since the divorce, Mum’s moved further out, and I’ve had to help her with errands and other things around the house. I hated it at first (when I was still a grumpy teenager), but I don’t mind it so much now. Mum doesn’t ask for much, so where I can help, I do. 

“Name?”

Oh. We’re here. I wait for Sean to catch up to me. I stare down the older looking boy in the mini-Robin Hood get up. Must be one of the Mage’s Merry Men. I roll my eyes, which causes him to glower down at me. I tentatively push Sean behind me. He can handle his own, if he needs to, but I would rather not test that today.

“Mage got you on bouncer duties, then? Sorry mate, but I’m way out of your league.”

I try to push past him, but he blocks my path with his arm. I am not in the mood to deal with these sorry excuses for security. I stand tall and give the man an icy stare. I will not be refused entry into yet another establishment. The brick wall does not budge.

“I won’t ask again. Name?”

“Sorry love, but Mum says I’m not supposed to speak to strangers” I attempt to move past him, but he continues to block my path. He then turns towards Sean, who wears his own defiant look on his face. The mini-Mage looks back at me, with an arrogant smile. 

“We’ve got ourselves a smart-arse then? We’ll see who’s laughing when we throw you in the tower with your troublesome ilk.” He points a finger towards Sean, who looks ready to deck the tosser. I place a hand on his shoulder, in an effort to calm him down. The mini-Mage keeps talking, each word etched in disgust.

“You a first year?” He asks him. Sean doesn’t respond, instead keeping his eyes focused in a glare. “Hmm… First year’s an important year. Wouldn’t do well to have a nasty rumour like big brother over here locked in a tower, would it?”

Sean lurches forward, fists clenched, but I pull him back and stand between the two of them. The wanker’s made his point. There’s no need to involve Sean in this horse shite. I hold my hand out towards him and speak directly to him.

“You’ve made yourself clear. No need to haul threats at the young ones.” I refrain from making a comment about picking on someone his own size. I don’t think he’d be too above picking fights with a first year. Instead, I straighten myself up once more and remember who I am, and that I belong in this place. 

“My name is Niall Connors, and I am an Eighth year student here.” I nod towards Sean. “This is Sean Connors. He is a First year student.” I turn my head back to the mini-Mage. “Now, may we please enter? My brother is required to attend several orientation sessions before the Crucible Ceremony tonight.”

The young man scoffs at me, but eventually steps aside and allows us entry. Before I step completely though the gate, he grabs my arm and whispers to me, “A little advice. Keep your wise-cracking comments to yourself. The next person you anger might not be so kind.” 

I yank my arm free from his grasp and sneer at him once more. I want to say something sarcastic, but in all honesty, this person is not worth any more of my time. Instead I scoff at him and stalk away.

Sean, having spotted a small group of first-years, has already made his way across the great lawn. He gives me a smile and nod, and I know that he doesn’t need me to watch out for him anymore. A part of me still wants to. He is my little brother after all, and his magic isn’t as strong as mine (if things were different, he wouldn’t have been allowed into Watford). Instead, I nod back at him and make my way to Mummer’s House. 

As I make my way to the Mummer’s I scan the Great Lawn for any sign of Dev or Baz. They usually arrive earlier than me (being the posh tossers they are). I don’t spot them anywhere, but I imagine they’re probably occupied elsewhere on the grounds. 

At least that’s what I’m hoping. This last summer has been… odd to say the least, especially these last couple of weeks. I have never felt so isolated from my friends before. I mean, usually when I spend my time with my mum, I see them less. But, there was something about this past summer that was different. I tried to keep in contact with Dev and Baz and we would touch base with each other, but at one point, nearly all communication stopped. With Baz, the lack of communication made sense. He is usually less talkative towards the end of the holiday. The month of August is always tough on him (considering it’s the month he lost his mum, amongst other things), so I communicate more with Dev. But even Dev was uncharacteristically quiet. Normally we could chat for hours on end, but the times we’ve spoken, Dev sounded… distracted I would say. The closer we got to the beginning of school, the less I heard from him. I had tried messaging Baz to ask him if he knew what was up with Dev, but heard nothing from him either.

I hated it. As much as I knew my friends would never maliciously shut me out, I could not help but feel a small sensation of doubt. I hope that seeing them today will relieve me of those anxieties. Whatever had them so silent toward me must have something to do with the rising tension between the Old Families and the Mage. The tensions and potential war affect Dev and Baz more than it does me (at least I think so). 

I expect to find both lads in my room (Baz tends to hang out with us when Snow is being…  _ Snow _ ). What I find instead, when I cast the recognition spell, is entirely different. The room is empty, deserted, and exactly the way Dev and I left it last June. 

_ This isn’t right. Dev should be here. _ I think to myself as I slowly enter. I lower myself onto my bed and start to ponder the reasons why my friends have not arrived yet. One of the last times I saw Dev and Baz, they were talking about how some of the other Old Families were considering pulling their sons out of Watford. 

My mum would never allow it. She wanted nothing to do with Old Families and their war. She’d told me that “their continued nonsense” was one of the reasons she left that life. My father, on the other hand, has been pushing me to “protect the interests of my family”. If I have to get involved with this war, it’ll be because my friends are involved. 

When I asked Dev and Baz if they were considering leaving Dev responded with “what? So that  _ you _ can finish ahead of me. Unlikely mate.” That comment earned him a sneer and a pillow to the face from me. 

Baz didn’t answer. Instead he just stared at me until I understood. Of course he would not be leaving Watford. His mother was the former Headmistress. Baz wanted more than anything to live up to her image and expectations. And nothing was more important to Headmistress Pitch than education and Watford. So, Baz was definitely staying. 

If that was the case then where on Earth were they? 

I decide to unpack my clothes and my other important toiletries. I figure that maybe they’re both just running late (very, very late). 

I unpack my clothing… No Dev.

I organize my toiletries and any other items I have brought from home… No Dev.

I decide to leave the room and shower in the communal bathrooms (I hate the damn place… the floor is grimy if you shower at the end of the day). When I get back to the room, Dev is still not there. 

I want to worry and I want to panic, but the rational part of my brain is insisting that they would have told me if they weren’t coming back. Dev and Baz (especially Dev) would not leave me in the lurch like this. They would have told me something…  _ anything _ . I glance down at my watch. I should make my way back onto the Great Lawn. I don’t want to miss the welcome-back picnic, nor the Crucible ceremony. I want to see where Sean ends up. 

I walk along the Great Lawn, searching for any sign of either Dev or Baz, but find none. I do notice the Scooby gang consisting of Snow, Bunce, and Wellbelove. I do my best to avoid them. I find a small secluded spot and settle there. 

The picnic is nice enough, but my thoughts are too focused on other things to really enjoy the festivities. I do perk up when the Crucible is brought for the first year students. I spot Sean amongst the crowd. He spots me as well and gives me a nervous wave. I give him a lop-sided grin and nod back at him. 

Watching quietly, I think back to when Dev and I were paired up. I remember the bloody pain in my stomach, pulling me towards this character with dark brown curly hair. Dev had spotted me walking towards him, so he practically ran to me, wide toothy grin on his face and held out his hand. I smiled back at him and timidly took his hand and shook it. We were assigned our room in Mummer’s not too long after that. 

Sean seems to have found his room mate rather quickly (out of us, he’s the more spirited). I glance towards the pair, and smile as they seem to have hit it off in no time. The boy hands what looks to be some jelly babies to Sean, who accepts happily. He’s going to be alright. 

I lift myself up from the spot and give a little stretch. I’m feeling tired, and at the same time, I don’t want to remain out here by myself amongst all the merriment and the groups of friends. I slowly sneak my way back to Mummer’s, trying to not think about the fact that my friends are probably not only not coming back, but that they didn’t bother to tell me. 

I open the door to my room and notice someone asleep in Dev’s bed. I peer over to see the familiar mop of dark brown curly hair. 

So, Dev has come back after all, which means that both he and Baz were sent back. I can’t think about why they didn’t come out to the Great lawn to find me. I am far too tired to think of anything right now. I’ll have to talk to them tomorrow at breakfast. 

For now, I quietly change into my pyjamas and crawl slowly into bed. It doesn’t take very long for sleep to come to me. 

* * *

_**Earlie** **r that evening:** _

**DEV**

Everything is fucked. 

As I approach the Watford gate, all I want, more than anything, is to turn around and go back home. I want to be with my family right now, but my father insists that I carry on as if nothing is wrong.

_ You are a Grimm. Your business is yours and yours alone. Your thoughts are yours and yours alone. Your emotions are to be concealed and never exposed out in the open. Remember that.  _

What a load of crock that is. 

I allow my feet to drag my body slowly to the gate’s entrance. Most of the students are already settled on the grounds. I can see the festivities of the back-to-school picnic already taking place. I just want to get back to my room and sleep. I have no desire to partake in the activities. A part of me wonders if Niall is already on the Great Lawn. A part of me wants to go look for him. 

But no… Not now… If I allow Niall to see me like this, I may very well lose my composure. I can’t have that happen. My plan is to avoid him as much as I can. Which will not be easy considering I share a room with him. 

As I reach the main entrance, I see several older students (well,  _ past _ students) gathered. I roll my eyes. The Mage must have put in extra precautions into play since Snow’s vanishing act last year. Or maybe these precautions are for other reasons (like the escalating tensions between him and families like mine). One of the boys stops me dead in my tracks and asks me for my name. I breathe in sharply through my nose and glare at him, my eyes cracking with defiance. I already anticipate a fight with this bloke as soon as I tell him my name. 

But to avoid the question would cause an even bigger stir… Damned if I do, and damned if I don’t, I suppose. I decide to go with the less painful option. 

“Dev Grimm.” 

The tosser has the gall to sneer at me. He looks over to one of his cohorts and whispers something to him. I adjust my shoulder bag and ready myself for a fight I never intended to get involved in. 

“We were wondering if you would bother showing up. Shouldn’t you be back at home, considering your brother’s situation?”

And there it is. One of the many punches that my family has had to endure over the summer was the arrest and impending trial of my older brother, James. Of course these arseholes know about that. The incident at the Peel wedding was probably incredibly exciting for this lot. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them was a part of the many raids on my family’s home. Raids that occurred almost immediately following the wedding. Raids that shook my mother to her core. Raids that left my father on such a short fuse that any question of his authority had him snapping. 

But I am far too tired to think about this now. I really just want to get to bed. The old me (the me from last year) would be ready to tussle with this former student. The old me would probably answer with sarcasm. But my brother’s been arrested, my family’s in turmoil…

And my cousin is missing. Baz isn’t just my cousin, he is my brother. He’s more of a brother to me than James. His recent disappearance has left me shaken and torn up. 

I refuse to let this imbecile’s words have an impact on me, so I steel myself and let the comments roll off my back.  _ I am a Grimm. My thoughts are mine and mine alone.  _ I address the boys in front of me. 

“My family felt it best to have me finish my education.”

The young man crosses his arms and scoffs at me. He and his friend, a tall lanky bloke with ginger-red hair stand on either side of me. “Is that all? If I were in your shoes, I would want to start trouble here.” One of them shoves my shoulder. “Now, should we be worried about that?” 

I clench my jaw, but keep my gaze away from them. Choosing to focus on the festivities occurring on the Great Lawn. “I am simply here to finish my schooling.” I start walking ahead, when the ginger-haired lad stops me again. I angrily sigh and finally turn to face him, an exasperated look on my face. 

“You know, we’ve got people keeping an eye out for you Old Family types. One wrong move, one step out of line and you’ll be joining your brother.”

I glare at him, my mind can’t help but think:  _ Which one? _

I don’t respond. I have no energy in me to do so. He lowers his hand and allows me to walk onto the grounds. Before I get too far, I hear behind me:

“We’ll be sure to give James our best!”

My fists clench involuntarily at my sides and my brow furrows. I feel a white-hot sensation building up in my chest. Anger. So much anger. I want more than anything to tackle the bastard to the ground and pummel the smirk off his face… I want him to feel every bit of pain that has been brewing in my gut for the last month…

But I stop, and I breathe, and I keep my head down as I walk away.

_ I am a Grimm. My thoughts are mine and mine alone. I need to control my emotions.  _

_ Conceal, don’t feel... When did my life become a bloody Disney movie? _

I slowly make my way towards Mummer’s House. I hope that Niall is somewhere on the lawn (probably being approached by some girl or bloke), and not in our room. I need time to myself right now. 

As I get to my room, I cast the recognition spell and let myself in. I thank Merlin that there is no trace of Niall in the room. I quickly unpack my bags and set up my side of the room for the year. 

It’s absolute bollocks that I’m just supposed to unpack and pretend that nothing terrible is going on right now. It’s absolute bollocks to fold my shirts and hang up my trousers when my mother is home crying for her eldest son (she’s been crying ever since James’ arrest). It’s absolute bollocks to set up my accessories and toiletries on my night stand while my brother could be facing expulsion by the Coven (for using forbidden spells… I was there when it happened, the spells were harmless). 

It’s especially bollocks to expect me to go to classes and focus on my work, to walk the hallways with a smile on my face, when Baz is missing ( _ kidnapped, _ even). And while my family likes to pretend that nothing is wrong, I know better. 

After all, I was the last person to see him. 

We were at the club (we had been spending most of our time there during the last month of holiday) and had just finished a round of tennis. We were talking about the raids and the mess with James (Baz knew all about it, our fathers were working to fix this mess). Baz then started asking me about Niall, and if I had contacted him at all (I hadn’t, and the few times Niall contacted me were met with a cold indifference on my part). That initial discussion led to me expressing more than I wished, and I think he knew that I needed a safer outlet than in the lobby of the club, so he suggested we take the discussion back to his place. 

He sent me to grab a few bottles of water for the ride, while he waited outside. It couldn’t have taken me more than ten minutes, but it was enough time for whomever (or whatever) to nab him. I wouldn’t have even known something was wrong, but as I was looking outside for him, I found his wand on the ground. His wand that he would never be caught dead without. 

After a panicked call to my father and a frenzied ride from my family’s chauffeur, I found myself back at home, where my father immediately began to question me. He wanted me to recount everything that happened and if I was sure that Baz was taken. Once I showed him the wand, he knew. He grabbed the wand and marched out the door. I wanted to follow him, but my mother begged me to stay behind. So I stayed behind, and I waited. I waited until my father came back home, hours later. I wanted to know what happened, but he refused to tell me. I only found out the details later by overhearing his discussion with my mother. 

Baz had been kidnapped. They were demanding a ransom, but Baz’s aunt was refusing to pay it (a fact that I could not believe at the time, and still cannot believe). 

For the next few days, Father would leave to help in the search efforts. I wanted to go with him, but Father would forbid it, and Mother would start to cry (she’d lost one son already, she would not risk losing another). Not knowing anything was killing me (it still kills me). In that time, I had gotten message after message from Niall. Asking me if I was alright. Trying to start a conversation. Wondering why we weren’t messaging him back. 

I ignored them all. How could I even begin to tell him about everything that happened? Besides, my father demanded that I tell absolutely no one that Baz was missing. 

_ Our family’s business is ours and ours alone. _

Those were the last words he said to me before sending me off to school. I hadn’t wanted to go back, not while there was so much uncertainty in the air, but Father insisted we maintain an “aura of normalcy” in the wake of current events. So I got into the car and was chauffeured back to Watford. 

So here I am, dreading the beginning of classes, and dreading having to see Niall. I finish unpacking and decide to quickly take a shower. Once I am done and settled into bed, I hear the door to our room open and Niall enter. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to not make a sound. I listen as he changes into his pyjamas and crawls into bed. I let out a sad sigh before falling asleep. 

Because, how can you begin to tell your best friend about the utter unraveling of your life, when you’ve also just realized that you’re completely in love with him?

No… better to not say anything and carry these burdens all on my own. 

_ I am a Grimm. My emotions and feelings are mine and mine alone.  _


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall turns to face me, as I start to gather my uniform from my dresser. I can’t look at him right now. I thought I was ready to see him, to talk to him, but at this point, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to speak to him. 
> 
> “Good to see you,” he says. “When did you get in?”
> 
> I swallow a small lump in my throat and finally look at him. His arms are crossed over his thin chest. He has already spelled his eyes that bloody blue colour (I hate when he does that). The freckles over his nose and under his eyes are standing out particularly strong against his pale face. I can feel a little blush creeping over my cheeks. 
> 
> _Time to put on a show. Whoop-de-fucking-doo._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who have given this story kudos and left comments. I love you all. 
> 
> Thanks to tbazzsnow (Artescapri) and Giishu for their beta-reading and comments. You are amazing.

**DEV**

I hear shuffling as sleep starts to fade away. The prickly down mattress and the soft blankets remind me that the last few weeks have not been a horrible dream. This is real. I am truly back at Watford, and Niall truly is standing mere feet away from me. I could try to pretend I’m still asleep, at least until Niall leaves our room, but what good would that do? He’d still find a way to corner me, most likely during breakfast. I groan and slowly lift myself from the bed. 

Niall is standing, lean and tall (out of us three, I’m the shortest, standing several inches below both Baz and Niall). He’s got his back to me and he’s applying some hair product to his messy auburn hair (fuck me, he’s going for the Tennant hair). I allow myself a glance at his shoulders and back, before violently shaking my head and whipping off the covers. 

Niall turns to face me, as I start to gather my uniform from my dresser. I can’t look at him right now. I thought I was ready to see him, to talk to him, but at this point, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to speak to him. 

“Good to see you,” he says. “When did you get in?”

I swallow a small lump in my throat and finally look at him. His arms are crossed over his thin chest. He has already spelled his eyes that bloody blue colour (I hate when he does that). The freckles over his nose and under his eyes are standing out particularly strong against his pale face. I can feel a little blush creeping over my cheeks. 

_ Time to put on a show. Whoop-de-fucking-doo. _

“Yesterday.” I give the shortest answer I can think of. I don’t want to give him any reason to ask me more questions or to press me further. I just want this conversation to end. I walk over to my night stand and gather a few of my toiletries. Niall presses me further.

“You didn’t come to the picnic.” He doesn’t ask a question, but I can feel the sadness in his voice. I really don’t need to be hearing  _ that  _ right now. I really don’t need to be feeling guilt over all this, on top of all the other emotions I’m currently feeling. 

I draw in a shaky breath, careful to steady my voice so that it comes out collected, devoid of any emotion. “Was feeling tired. Wanted to sleep.”

“Baz come in with you, then?”

I freeze. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that he’d ask me that question. I don’t answer, and head towards the door to our room. My hand lingers on the knob. I don’t hear Niall shuffling anymore. I look in his direction and he’s staring directly at me, all pale-faced, and anxious muddy blue eyes. He’s chewing on his lower lip. Niall does that when he starts to feel especially anxious. It’s all I can do to avoid his glances and look away from him. Niall takes this as answer enough and continues to press the issue.

“Is he not here?” Niall asks me. There is a slight shift in his voice towards the end of the question. It sounds like dread…  _ worry.  _ It’s a running joke that Niall is the thickest out of all of us, but when it comes to knowing  _ me _ and my mannerisms, Niall is as much a genius as bloody  _ Einstein _ . The fact that I’m refusing to talk to him, to  _ look _ at him, has already told him more than I was willing to let out. 

Fuck. It. All. That’s enough exposure for one day. I whip open the door and quickly stride outside. I hear him one last time before I slam the door behind me. 

“I’ll see you downstairs then!”

I march to the bathrooms, nearly bumping into other students walking in the hallways. I’m not usually so on-edge, nor am I usually so oblivious to those around me. I was taught from a very young age to walk with purpose and grace, But these circumstances have thrown me off balance, and I find it difficult to remember my place. 

Once I’m in the bathroom, I proceed to throw water on my face, in an attempt to pull myself together. My initial instinct is to walk back to my bedroom and tell Niall everything. To tell him about James, about Baz, about my mother being a nervous wreck, and my father demanding we all carry on. 

I want to tell Niall  _ everything. _ He is my best friend, and from the moment we were drawn together during our Crucible ceremony, he’s always been there for me (and I for him). When his parents got divorced during fourth year, I was the first person he told. I had spent the remainder of the year cheering him up and taking care of him when he started to get into his head. Through his many bad dates and awful relationships, I’ve been his person to talk to. 

He trusted me when he needed a friend. I should trust him now that I need him. 

_ But… I am a Grimm, and my family’s business is mine and mine alone. _ I am reminded of my father’s words. I am to tell absolutely no one… and that includes Niall. I could not even begin to imagine him understanding my situation. Since his parents got divorced, he’s been given an out from all of this ugliness. His mum’s not involved in any of this, and Niall doesn’t get on with his father. He could walk away from all of this free of consequence. 

I don’t have the same luxury. My family is too ingrained in it. Once everything boils over, I’ll be asked to fight along with other sons from the Old Families. When these tensions reach a melting point (if they haven’t already, kidnapping the heir to the oldest family in magic is a pretty obvious act of war), I’ll be expected to take my place beside my father and my other cousins. 

Niall doesn’t understand any of this. And I would never expect him to. While Niall is our best friend, he has started to live in a world separate from us. And I don’t blame him for it, it was just how things happened. Niall won’t be joining any war, should a war start. Niall won’t be expected to lay his life down to preserve the rights and heritage of his family (and I would hate for him to do so). 

So I won’t be telling him about any of this. Certainly not now, and maybe not ever. Even though not telling him is killing me on the inside. 

Once I’m dressed and ready to get through this day, I head to the dining hall, where most of the student body has already gathered. The smell of the food makes me nauseous, I really don’t feel hungry right now. I still take some food with me. I should at least try to eat something. I spot Niall in our usual spot and sit down next to him. I look over to Baz’s empty seat and place the pot of tea at his place (I’ll be damned if anyone thinks they can take his spot). It’s what little I can do to maybe convince myself that everything is still so normal. 

I look up to see that Niall has been watching me the entire time. I pretend the concerned look on his face doesn’t affect me and I start to slowly eat the eggs and fruit on my plate. 

Niall clears his throat, and when I look up at him he slightly nods towards the tea pot, while drinking his tea. I roll my eyes and look back down. We are not having this conversation right now. 

Niall thinks otherwise. “Dev. What’s going on?” He asks me in a quiet, hushed voice. Quiet enough so that wandering ears don’t try to listen in. His voice is also laced with a deep concern. Niall, from living with me for 7 years, knows me better than anyone. He knows when something is bothering me, and today is no exception. 

But I can’t tell him… I won’t tell him. 

_ My family’s business is mine and mine alone. _

“Nothing, Niall.” I chance a glance up at him, to stare him down. I look into his muddy eyes for a brief second. I look away before he can take note of the turmoil in mine. Niall puts down his tea cup and points a long, pale finger at me. 

“Don’t fuck with me, Dev. I’ve barely heard from you and Baz since July. You’ve both gone completely silent on me. Are you alright?” While still maintaining a hushed tone, Niall’s voice is severe, and angry. I don’t expect it and I drop the fork I had been holding up. The more the conversation progresses, the less hungry I become. My heart is beating wildly against my chest, wanting nothing more than for me to unload some of the burden that’s been placed upon it. 

I can’t. He wouldn’t understand. So I push his finger away from me and I insist.

“I’m fine.” 

I’m not fine.

“You don’t look fine.” 

He fucking knows it to.

“Bloody drop it, Niall!” 

I know he won’t. So I decide to end the conversation on my own terms, once again. I calmly place my utensils back on the table and roughly leave my place. I turn back to make sure that Niall’s not following, and duck into a nearby lavatory. I need several minutes to myself. Thank Merlin there’s no one inside at the moment. 

My palm collides with the cool porcelain of a nearby sink. I lower my head attempt to steady my breath.

_ Keep it together Grimm. _ I repeat to myself. If I had stayed there any longer, I would have broken and told Niall everything. I can’t risk that again. This was the first day of school, and I already almost came completely undone. And why? Because Niall was asking me a bloody question? 

It’s more than that… Niall makes me want to reveal all of my secrets to him. It’s the power he has over me. And the reason why I can’t spend too much time with him. Niall looks at me, and I already know that he wants to fix whatever I’ve got going on. But he can’t fix this. No one can fix this. 

I stare at myself in the mirror. Bloody hell, no wonder Niall’s on my case. The dark circles under my eyes are very much evident today, as well as the permanent frown etched on my face. I look moodier than Baz on a typical day. I need to either pull myself together and start smiling more (not bloody likely), or keep Niall at a distance. 

I splash some water on my face before exiting. As much as I already hate this, I have no other choice. I decide that I’m going to keep Niall at a distance. 

* * *

**NIALL**

I’m so glad this day is over. The first day (or rather, week) is usually rough for me. I’m never used to diving back into the daily grind of Latin, Greek, and Magickal Words. It takes me a couple of days to get fully used to a new routine. It isn’t any easier with Dev being a prick and Baz obviously not around.

It was evident a breakfast that Baz was not coming back (at least not for now). A part of me wants to accept that he was simply pulled out of school (it does make sense, Baz’s family has the most to lose with these rising tensions). However, I refuse to shake the feeling that it isn’t  _ that _ simple. If Baz was pulled out, why wasn’t Dev pulled out as well? Wouldn’t that arouse some suspicions amongst the others here?

I’ve already got Simon bloody Snow on my back. I swear, I could barely breathe in Political Science class, with Snow’s magic spilling out of him like a leaky faucet. He’s also not the most subtle of characters, I didn’t have to look back at him to know that he was staring at me throughout class. Probably looking for any indication that I knew where Baz was (trust me mate, I  _ wish _ I did). I may be the thickest of my friends, but even I know that wherever Baz is and whatever is going on with him, the last person who needs to know about it is Simon Snow. 

So I kept a cool face in class and pretended not to notice Snow’s little spectacle. I consider myself an expert on keeping a cool facade. Having to listen to my father complain for years about my mother has helped with that. 

I was also able to deflect the conversation (another trick I picked up from living with my father) when Snow cornered me after class. He had questions, and I didn’t have answers (not that I’d tell him if I did). I responded in the way I know best, with dismissive sarcasm. Snow didn’t seem too thrilled, but honestly I could not give a fucking shit as to what Simon Snow thinks of me. 

I’m still angry with Dev when I arrive at the dining hall for supper. I want to pull him aside and yell at him for being such a bloody tosser. But when I see him, my emotions soften. I cannot find it in me to stay cross with him. 

Because Dev looks… like someone else. Not like the Dev I know. The Dev I know is always full of light and happiness. The Dev I know would greet me with a wide grin and a slap on my back. The Dev I know isn’t afraid to take the piss out of anyone. The Dev I know isn’t the same person sitting alone at our table. The Dev I see now is exhausted, humourless, devoid of any emotion. The Dev I see is barely touching his food, and is occasionally looking at the place in front of him.  _ Baz’s _ place. I take my spot beside him, but Dev doesn’t budge. I wave a hand over his eyes, but he barely reacts. 

I hate this. This isn’t Dev. And no matter how many times he tells me otherwise, I know there is something wrong. I start talking about my day and about how lost I already feel in class. I start talking about Sean and how his Crucible ceremony went yesterday. I even talk about the Visitings that have occurred. 

Dev doesn’t react to any of it. I go back to my food, when Dev looks up. I follow his gaze and notice Wellbelove staring at us, particularly at Baz’s empty seat. 

“What’s Wellbelove’s deal?”

Dev shrugs and turns to me “Who knows?” Ah. Finally some words from him. Maybe I can get a few more words out of him. I start to eat the food in front of me. 

“Think she and Snow have called it quits?” I offer. It’s stupid gossip, and normally, we couldn’t be arsed enough to discuss the relationship statuses of our classemates. But, Dev’s shown some sort of life and acknowledgment of my presence, so I’m choosing to work this angle with him. 

“Who cares, Niall?” He snaps at me. 

I’ve miscalculated, it appears. I sigh and continue to eat. I won’t let his little tantrums have an affect on me. He wants to be like this, I’ll let him be. 

“I’m just trying to talk to you. You’ve said less than two words to me since this morning.” I say calmly to him. 

“I just don’t feel like talking.” Dev turns his head to me and pushes some food around his plate. He hasn’t taken another bite of his food, since we noticed Wellbelove staring at our table. I frown at him. 

“Right. And would this have anything to do with…” I nod my head towards Baz’s place. Dev looks away from me and back to his plate. 

“No.”

I grab his plate and move it away from him. That seems to get his attention because he’s glaring daggers at me. “Will you talk to me Dev? You’ve been looking moodier than Baz during fifth year. What’s going on?”

Dev pushes himself back against his chair. He looks up towards the ceiling and runs his hands through his hair. “Nothing, Niall.”

I find my temper beginning to flair up. My face begins to feel hot, my head begins to throb, and I begin to bite down on my lip. “Horseshite Dev. You both stop talking to me, and now Ba--”

“SHH! Keep your bloody voice down!” Dev grabs my wrist and speaks to me through gritted teeth. The look in his eyes is dark enough to kill. I’ve never seen it on Dev before, and all it does is confirm to me that something’s off. 

I pull my wrist away from him and cross my arms over my chest. I lower my eyebrows at him and stare at his face. “So. Something  _ is _ up. What is it Dev?”

Dev continues to glare at me. “Since when are  _ you _ the interrogating type? Trying to be like the Golden Boy over there?” He nods towards Snow’s table. 

I have no words then. I feel as if Dev’s backhanded me. I need to blink a few times and process what he’s just said to me, because it’s a fucking low blow. This isn’t the first time that Dev has tried to push me away from him, and I can handle that. But to do that, while comparing me to  _ Snow?  _ The tosser we’ve been antagonizing for years? 

I nod slowly and lift myself from my seat. I look at Dev one last time before leaving the table.

“You’re a bloody prick, Dev.”

When he doesn’t answer me, I finally understand. So that’s the way it’s going to be then? Alright, Dev. I can take a fucking hint. I inhale deeply, pushing any painful thoughts I may have in my head far down. I calmly exit the dining hall and head back to my room. 

If the tosser wants to be like this and refuse to talk to me, it’s damn well and good. 

I don’t need him. 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I miss him. 
> 
> I miss him and I hate avoiding him. 
> 
> These three weeks have ticked by agonizingly slow. I can’t focus on my classes, and my grades have begun to suffer for it. 
> 
> It doesn’t help that he’s stopped trying to talk to me (though I shouldn’t blame him for that, I have told him to leave me alone). But every so often, I’ll look up and notice him staring at me, all sadness and concern in his spelled eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is late (late-ish), but editing happened and I had to re-work both this chapter and the next one (but honestly, they are a lot better than I could have expected, so yay for that).
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been commenting and leaving kudos on this story. They mean the world to me. 
> 
> Thank you to my amazing betas, TBazzSnow (Artescapri) and Giishu for your guidance and never-ending helpful comments. 
> 
> TW: Also, as a small warning, I am alluding to a character have an anxiety/panic attack in this chapter.

**NIALL**

Three weeks have gone by and nothing has changed. 

Baz is still gone, Dev is still avoiding me. I try to keep telling myself that I’m fine and that I don’t need to be a part of their nonsense, but when it comes down to it… I fucking miss them.

My studies have improved. It really only takes me a few days to adjust myself to the routine and I do well enough. I could stand to improve my Greek and Latin (Dev and Baz are usually the ones to help me through the more difficult language courses) but I’m keeping up with the material from my other classes. 

I have had a few chances to check up on Sean, to see how he’s holding up. He wasn’t assigned a room at Mummers. Instead he and his roommate (whose name is Patrick) were assigned a room in one of the newer buildings, Fraternity House. Sean is absolutely thriving here, eyes bright and smile wide whenever I see him. He’s even managed to accrue a small group of friends around him. To see them, fills me with a sense of sadness. Sean and his group are reminiscent of Dev, Baz, and myself. 

I cannot think about them so I try to focus on my schoolwork and on football. I started back on the team once school began. All three of us were a part of the team, but since Baz is gone and Dev’s been absent from practices, both of their positions have been given to other players. Baz’s captain position was (shockingly) given to me, even though I’m the goalkeeper. If Mum were here, she’d be thrilled. _ “Just like Gigi Buffon!” _ she’d shout (Mum’s a fiend for the Italian footballers, a fact that frankly embarrasses me more than her dating choices). 

I keep going to practices, I keep managing the team, and I keep testing out different plays with the lads. It isn’t the same without Dev and Baz, but this is one of the only sentiments of normalcy I still have left. And right now, it’s helping me to focus, and preventing me from absolutely losing my mind. Besides, I have recently discovered that I  _ enjoy _ having a bit of a leadership position. I’ve always been content with being the quiet one, but now that I’ve been thrust into leading the team, I truly like it, and I want to do a good job of it. And that means showing up and dedicating my focus and thoughts to the team (at least while on the pitch).

Practice days are the best days because I am running non-stop from the moment I wake up, until the time I go to bed. Today was one of those days, and I’ve been busy drilling the team and finding different options to replace the loss of two valuable team players. By the time we’re done, I am exhausted. All I want is a long shower and sleep peacefully in my bed. I collect my bag and equipment and begin heading back to Mummers House.

* * *

**DEV**

I miss him. 

I miss him and I hate avoiding him. 

These three weeks have ticked by agonizingly slow. I can’t focus on my classes, and my grades have begun to suffer for it. 

It doesn’t help that he’s stopped trying to talk to me (though I shouldn’t blame him for that, I have told him to leave me alone). But every so often, I’ll look up and notice him staring at me, all sadness and concern in his spelled eyes. I’ve started stealing glances of him too. Watching as he furrows his brows while translating Greek verbs, running his hand through his feathery auburn hair (fuck, I love his hair, espcially when he styles it like that… spikey, with some disorder to it). I’ll notice when he blushes if called upon in class (especially when he’s not expecting it), and how he’ll smile when he answers correctly. 

I miss his smile and his sarcasm. I miss the way he would talk back to me when I was being “too posh” for him. 

I miss everything about Niall, and seeing him reminds me of how alone I feel (even though it’s from my own doing). 

It’s been three weeks, and I haven’t heard anything from my family. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. Outside communication is not allowed (a rule brought about by the Mage’s paranoia). I had wanted to sneak in a mobile, but my mother would not hear of it. 

So I’ve been stuck here without any knowledge of the events occurring outside. As the days pass, I find myself becoming more and more agitated, more high-strung. I’m not sleeping as much as I used to (I’m lucky if I can manage 3 hours a night), and I consider spelling myself unconscious to maybe force my body to sleep. 

I also find myself with less patience for my peers. Any question, any comment, any word makes me want to start a tussle (maybe that’s a side-effect from my stress and lack of sleep). I’m so on-edge, that I wander the halls with my head down, careful to avoid any interaction, unless absolutely necessary. 

Today was torture to get through. After my lessons, I found myself taking a walk on the grounds. I wanted to try and clear my head, and get some fresh air. I eventually ended up on the ramparts, so I sat down and watched as the football team ran practices. 

I couldn’t find it in me to join up. I had missed a couple of practices, as well as the try-outs. Coach Mac had stopped me one day to try and convince me to come back. I told him that I wanted to focus my attention on my academics. He asked me if Baz was planning on showing up before the start of the season. I simply shrugged and walked away. Both our positions were filled the following day. 

I stare out onto the field and smile to myself as Niall takes control of the squad. You wouldn’t think that Niall would have it in him, but he’s bloody brilliant at it. He leads the team differently than Baz did (Niall’s more reserved in his direction, while Baz was more severe) but it seems to work just as well. 

I don’t watch for very long. I would rather not be reminded of how I’m not playing this year. So I lift myself up and start walking back to my room. My thoughts fall back to my family. I think about my mother and father (have there been any more raids on our home? Is my mother still locking herself in her room, crying?). I think of James (have they had his trial yet?). My steps slow as my mind wanders further. 

I think of Baz. 

He’s been gone for three weeks now. Three weeks. I imagine that whomever has him, that they’re keeping him alive. I’m fairly certain they’re keeping him fed…

But..  _ are they? Really? _

Are they taking care of his…  _ affliction _ (Baz refuses to talk about his vampirism in any other manner… he refuses to talk about it  _ at all _ )? How could they even know about it? The only people who know about it are his parents, myself, and Niall. 

I found out the summer before fifth year. I hadn’t seen him at all that summer (the excuse was that he was severely sick and could not be in contact with others--I suppose in the grand scheme of things, it made sense). I would have left it at that, but I had gotten a text from him that concerned me. It sounded far more morose than his usual moody texts. During an event attended by both mine and Baz’s parents, I excused myself early (feigning illness myself). Instead of going home, I went to Baz’s place. One of the household staff let me in. My excuse was that I wanted to return some books he had loaned me (not an entire lie, I had been meaning to do just that). While they momentarily excused themselves to attend to one of Baz’s siblings, I snuck upstairs to his room. I had texted him earlier saying that I was coming to check on him… He didn’t take it well. 

He took it even worse when I knocked on his door. I remember hearing pained shouts, telling me to go away. I didn’t listen, and it was a good thing as well, because once I got a good look at him, I knew he wasn’t alright. Dark circles under his eyes, cheeks gaunt, skin a sickly grey colour. He was hiding in the darkest corner of his room, shouting at me to leave. I closed the door behind me and sat on his hardwood floor. Looking at him, and remembering what had happened to his mother… Well, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. 

I told him I would be right back and snuck back downstairs. I made my way to the back of their estate. I come from a family of farmers, we learn spells for animal control and acquisition as soon as we feel the magic in our bodies. I discreetly caught a few small animals (squirrels) and made my way back to his room. I opened the door again and placed the squirrels (dead, by the time I got there) on the ground, and closed the door. I was risking our friendship by merely  _ implying _ that I knew. I was risking Baz honestly murdering me right then and there, but when I heard him whispering a thank-you from the other side of the door, I knew I made the right choice. Before I left, I quietly promised him that Niall and I would have his back about this (he didn’t want to tell Niall at first, I convinced him that we could trust him) and that no one else needed to know. 

So much for that promise now. That promise means bollocks now because I wasn’t there to have his back when he actually needed it. I could have helped him (maybe), I could have seen who nabbed him (maybe), I could have done something ( _ maybe _ ). My parents would probably tell me that if I wasn’t killed, I would have been taken as well. The way I see it, if I had also been grabbed… at least he wouldn’t be alone. At least I could be there to make sure he wasn’t dying. 

If he was dying right now… 

“DEV!”

My thoughts are interrupted by a grating voice in the air. I didn’t even realize that I had made it back to Mummers. I turn my head to see Simon Snow marching towards me with determination. I roll my eyes and start to walk away, but Snow blocks my path. 

I clench my fist and prepare myself. I am not in the mood to fight with this pillock. I hope I can deter him enough to make an escape. 

“Snow. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

* * *

**NIALL**

I already know, as I walk down the hall in Mummers that I’m going to be delayed. I feel the familiar stinging sensation of uncontrolled magic in the air and I roll my eyes. Snow is a bloody menace, who can’t be arsed to keep it inside. I almost turn away and avoid his nonsense when I hear a familiar deep voice. 

“Fuck off Snow!” 

Dev. 

I should leave Dev to his own devices, especially since he’s made it clear that he doesn’t want me around right now. Unfortunately, I am a creature of habit, and I want to stand by his side, despite his protests. So, I turn a corner and I find Snow attempting to tower over Dev (Dev’s barely got any height on us). I already do not like how this looks. Dev’s face looks agitated; his eyes are avoiding Snow’s face, he’s gritting his teeth, and his fists are clenched. 

“Where is he, Dev? You’re his fucking cousin!” Snow is practically shouting at him, and Dev is not looking too good. 

“That is none of your business!” Dev looks directly at him. He tries to make a move to walk past him, but Snow isn’t letting up. I notice Dev’s eyes beginning to darken, and I feel it’s my time to step in before he does something he regrets (you don’t get into a tussle with Snow unless you want a broken nose… Baz learned that the hard way). 

I march up to the pair. Dev notices me and actually rolls his eyes. I wedge myself between the two of them and cross my arms defiantly. 

“Back off Snow! Don’t involve Dev in your petty delusions!” 

My comment only causes Snow to make an even bigger circus of the whole situation. He doesn’t back off, preferring to remain in our space, with his arms slightly pulled back, ready to fight if need be (Crowley, is he  _ always _ like this? No wonder Baz couldn’t stand to be around him for too long). He looks at me, his eyes aflame with anger. 

“I know Baz is plotting something!” 

I roll my eyes but stand my ground. “Well hurrah to you. Would you like a certificate for your brilliant investigative skills?” I ask him. 

Snow straightens his back and points to Dev, still behind me, probably still decking Snow in his mind. “I know Dev’s involved! Their whole bloody family’s the same!”

And that’s what sets Dev off. He starts pushing against me, wanting to get at Snow, and it takes everything in me to hold him back (Dev’s a lot shorter than me, but he’s a rather strong bloke). I keep myself between the two of them, my arms outstretched. I stare back at Dev and nearly snap at him.

“Dev! Stop! He’s not worth our time.”

That seems to calm him down. Dev shakes his head, as if remembering something important and backs down. I look into his demon eyes (Dev’s eyes are typically deep green, but one of them is vertically-split between green and amber. He looks possessed when he’s properly angry), and notice them becoming downcast, reserved again. 

Snow, meanwhile has been pulled back by some of his other mates. He gives us one final scoff and stalks away. I adjust my football kit (bloody hell,  _ why _ am I still in this thing?) and pick up my bag (I had dropped at some point during that confrontation). I place my hand on Dev’s shoulder and give him a friendly little shake. 

“You alright, mate?”

Dev shakes my hand off his shoulder and turns away from me. “Yeah… I’m fine…” He starts to walk away, but stops. I almost hope that he’ll turn back to me and let me in. Instead, he continues walking. I call out to him, but he pretends not to hear me. 

I feel a blow to my gut as I watch him walk further and further away. I slam my fist on the wall behind me and roughly run my hand through my hair. I feel disgusting (from football), exhausted, and furious (mostly at myself, but also at Dev). I want to yell at him and call him a complete arsehole. 

Maybe that’s what I need to do. Maybe I need to confront him head on. Maybe I need to make one last ditch effort (away from peering eyes and curious ears) and hope that Dev wakes up. 

Right now, I need a shower and a change of clothes. 

* * *

**DEV**

I don’t remember much from my confrontation with Snow. All I remember feeling was the overwhelming sensation of helplessness and anger. So much anger. The more Snow talked, and accused, the angrier I got. 

Then suddenly someone was standing in front of me. My head cleared enough to notice the purple Watford jersey with the name “Connors” written across the back. 

Niall.

I find myself coming down from the static in my head. The fog clouding my thoughts dissipates. I’m alright. I’m calming down. Niall’s presence is helping me. 

Until Snow shoves his blasted finger in my face and mentions my family. What the fuck does he know about my family? What the fuck is he implying? I launch myself forward, only to be held back by Niall’s long thin arms. I fight to break away from him, but (unbelievably) Niall is able to stand his ground. He shoves me back and tries to add space between me and Snow. I would continue to fight, but I look into his eyes and feel my heart slowing down again. The churning in my stomach begins to settle. 

Again, the static clears away. Niall brings me back. I don’t even notice that Snow’s long gone, all I can focus on is my laboured breathing. The voice in my head is screaming my constant reminder.

_ You are a Grimm! Your emotions are for you and you alone! Your business is yours and yours alone! _

Bloody hell… I almost started a fight with Simon bloody Snow. Crowley, how could I have been so daft? The last thing my family needs is to have their remaining son locked away because he started a fight with the Mage’s Heir. 

I feel Niall’s hand on my shoulder. I look up at his kind eyes, and the sad sound of his voice. He asks if I’m alright but I can’t look at him right now, let alone answer him. I shake his arm off me and quickly mumble that I’m fine before walking away from him. 

I hear him calling out for me, but I ignore him and continue walking. I walk until I get to our room. I start anxiously pacing back and forth, replaying everything that just happened. My head feels so dizzy and I can’t think clearly. My chest tightens, as if someone is squeezing it; I find it hard to breathe. My eyes start watering and a sob escapes my lips. I feel a heavy trail of tears falling down my face. The pain in my chest increases and the sobs rattle my body. I jolt upright and grab at my chest. My heart is thumping so wildly, that I feel it in my throat.

In my ears.

Rushing to my head.

It hurts to breathe. 

It hurts to think.

Fuck... 

_ FUCK _ ! 

I need to calm down. 

I need to remember to breathe. 

This isn’t helping me.

I run my fingers through my hair and squeeze as hard as I can. My thoughts are buzzing in my head, each one begging for my attention. 

_ My feelings are mine and mine alone. My thoughts are mine and mine alone. Everything is fine. Nothing is wrong. Calm down! _

I’m spiraling; losing control of everything. My head is spinning, and there is sweat beading across my brow. The air feels stale, stuffy. It’s suffocating me. 

_ Is the room always this fucking hot? It’s hard to breathe in here! _

I throw myself towards the windows and fling them open. As the cold air hits my face, I start gasping, clinging onto every gulp of air as if it were my last. 

_ Breathe, Grimm! Just fucking breathe! _

Slowly... slowly. 

In through the nose.

Hold for a few seconds

Release. 

I do this a few times, and the tightness in my chest starts to recede. The dizzy feeling dissipates and I can think clearly once again. The sobs have stopped, and even though my tears are still flowing, they’ve slowed down considerably. 

I am slowly calming down, but I still worry about I should do about Niall and about what’s just happened. I hear my father’s voice in my head. 

_ Your feelings are to be kept inside. Push forward. Nothing is wrong _

That’s what I intend to do. Push forward, through the pain, through the loneliness, through the guilt. I choke back a sob, when I hear the door rattling. I quickly wipe away any stray tears and turn from the window to see Niall walking inside. 

He’s furious. 

* * *

**NIALL**

I should be more concerned to walk in on Dev wiping tears from his eyes. I should be more concerned with his little break down (and a part of me is concerned), but I need to stay angry with him for now. I need to remember how frustrated I am as a result of this nonsense. If Dev doesn’t wish to tell me how he feels, that’s fine. But right now, he needs to hear what I have to say.

“We need to talk, Dev.” I toss my football bag on the floor and stand in front of him. He tries to look away from me, but I wave my hand in front of his face. 

He stares at me as he sits down on his bed “I am not in the mood to talk, Niall.” He sounds cold, closed off, but he  _ looks _ tired, defeated. I know he hasn’t been sleeping, and he hasn’t been eating. Dev is a walking ghost right now, and I don’t know what more I can do to help him. 

I can’t let myself be distracted by Dev right now. “Dev, you cannot keep pushing me away like this! I am bloody sick of it!” I cross my arms and glare at him. 

Dev steps forward, startling me. I take a step back “Good! Maybe now you’ll stop putting your nose where it doesn’t belong!” he shouts at me.

I take a step towards him, my face flushed with exasperation. I raise my arms above my head as I bark at him, “What was I supposed to do? Let Snow blow you up?! What  _ was _ that back there?”

Dev rolls his eyes and marches away from me. He leans against a wall and diverts his gaze from me. “Nothing, Niall! It was nothing!” He says as he shakes his head.

I don’t buy it for one moment. I suck in a breath and rub the back of my neck. “Like hell, it was nothing! You aren’t yourself, Dev. You haven’t been since school started! I barely recognize you anymore.” The flush that began in my face has started to creep down over my arms. I can feel a small prickly sensation on my arms; goosebumps. I rub them, in an effort to calm myself down.

Dev doesn’t respond. Just keeps his face down, away from me. He runs his fingers through his hair, possibly trying to think of something to say to me. I continue to let everything off my chest, chewing on my bottom lip as I speak.

“Dev, I have been your friend for seven years! You and Baz have both trusted me explicitly! If something is wrong, please trust me, now!”

Dev finally looks at me and shakes his head. He takes a deep breath, “This doesn’t concern  _ you _ , Niall! So please, back off!” He spits it out. 

I flinch at the ice in his voice. Suddenly all of the fears, and all of the worries that have plagued me from the back of my mind hit me full force. This is an Old Families situation. “So, that’s it then…” I say quietly. I slowly sink onto my bed. 

Dev scoffs at and shakes his head “Don’t go there, Niall.” He turns away from me and walks to our window. 

I can’t look at him right now. I stare at the ground, at my clasped hands. I scoff lightly to myself. “Brilliant… it didn’t take you lads very long to cut me out, did it?” I try to mask the bitterness in my voice, but it sticks to my words like thick glue. 

Dev continues to stare out the window. “Niall, you don’t understand!” 

I finally look at him. My face is scrunched up in a tight grimace. “I understand perfectly well, Dev! If you and Baz don’t trust me enough to talk to me, that’s fine! You can take your bloody issues and your shitty attitude and fuck right off!” I point angrily to the door, hoping he gets the message. 

Dev sneers at me and stalks towards the door. “Perfect!” He yells at me as he whips open the door. 

I pull off my shoe and launch it at the door, just as Dev walks out. It hits the frame and bounces back to me. I hadn’t even thought about the Anathema. What if it hit him? What if just the act of launching my shoe was enough to set the Anathema off? Fucking hell, I could have gotten expelled for that! 

And all because my best friend is an absolute prat. Well… is he even my best friend anymore? Sure doesn’t look like it. Dev couldn’t have made it clearer that our relationship has changed for the worse.

I stare at the shoe on the floor, and the closed door. A part of me wonders if I should chase after Dev, and continue this conversation, but honestly, I don’t have the energy anymore. Dev’s made his decision, and I won’t humiliate myself anymore than I already have. 

Fuck that…

I slowly lie down on my bed and pinch the bridge of my nose. Why does he have to be so bloody stubborn all the time? Why can’t he just fucking trust me? Have I done anything to make him think otherwise? Did I not try hard enough to talk to him over the summer? What more could I have done? 

I stare up at the ceiling and grapple with the fact that maybe that’s it for us. Maybe this is how Dev and I stop being friends. I don’t want that… not really. But I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve to be given the cold shoulder after seven years of friendship. I don’t know what else I can do at this point to make Dev understand, and honestly, I’m tired of trying. 

I’m tired of everything. 


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m such an idiot. 
> 
> I should have told Niall as soon as I saw him. I should have told him everything. Bollocks to my family’s business being my own, Niall _IS_ my family. I realize that it’s high time I tell him everything (well, maybe not that I love him).
> 
> As I open the door, and see Niall in his pyjamas (blue plaid bottoms, Chelsea t-shirt) and on his bed, I already know what I’m going to say. I close the door and take a seat on my bed. Niall scoffs at me and turns away. I grab my wand and whisper a **“Silence is Golden”** (it’s a spell meant to sound-proof walls) before addressing Niall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouf! SO sorry that this took so long to post. This chapter was re-written and re-worked like at least 3 times... Add that to personal stresses and heading into a busy season at work... yeah... writing has had to take a back seat. I am still writing this story, I promise. But updates will not be happening as often as I'd like them to. I'm going to take my time and work at it slowly. 
> 
> Thank you times a million to my amazing betas, Giishu and TBazzsnow (Artescapri) who have helped me with my word choices, grammar and suggestions on how to make my story flow better. Even though I had to re-work it several times, I am very happy with how it turned out, and I have them to thank for it. Love you!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been liking this story and leaving comments. Any love for this RarePair (are they considered a RarePair?) make me so happy and I hope I keep doing their little story justice.

**DEV**

I fucked up.

I know as soon as I close the door behind me, that I have truly (and possibly irrevocably) fucked things up. Even if Niall forgives me for the things I’ve said, there is no way he’ll ever trust me again. I pretty much just told him that he no longer belongs by my side.

Imagine, Niall not belonging by my side. I can’t imagine my life without him. 

But after that outburst, that row… I think I have just guaranteed it. 

I walk without any sense of purpose or direction (how accurate, just like my life). Images of Niall’s face appear in my mind. During the argument, his mouth was opened slightly, trying to understand my asinine comments. I could tell he was gutted by how lost and betrayed his eyes looked. He sounded so small; the memory of it brings a sharp twist ro my stomach. 

I’m on the ramparts once more. I don’t even know where I want to go, but this seems like a good place. I stumble on a loose stone and fall to the floor. 

That’s when it hits me. 

I lost Niall. 

I fucking lost Niall. 

I drag myself to the wall closest to me and draw my knees up to my chest. I stare up at the sky and allow myself to think of Niall and only Niall. 

It’s always been him. When I think about the person I want to be near at all times… It’s Niall. When I think about the person I want to talk to… It’s Niall. With all the ugliness around us, I want to keep him safe, I want to protect him. When I think of the person standing beside me, through everything my mind settles on one face and one face alone. 

Niall. 

I drape my arms over my knees and rest my chin on them. Is this what it means to be in love? I wouldn’t know, I’ve never felt this way before. I have had crushes before, but the way I feel about Niall is so much more than just a simple crush. 

I think it truly began after we said goodbye in June. We left our room and I was filled with a sense of despair. I didn’t want to see him go. During all the moments we spent together in July, I thought about inching a bit closer to him, maybe trailing my finger over his while sitting beside each other. I thought about leaning my head on his shoulder after a long night of laughing and conversation. I thought about what it would be like to have him nuzzle the side of my face. I found myself staring at him more and more. Niall kept his eyes that beautiful warm brown colour in the summer and I loved it. They’re a soft warm brown, with flakes of gold and amber and when the sun hits them just right, I find myself being pulled into a comforting embrace. I would stare at the lines and curves of his face, itching to trace my finger across them. I wanted to caress my finger along the edge of his sharp, pointed nose. I wanted him to hold my face in his hands and brush the hair away from my forehead. I wanted to run my fingers through that Tennant hair of his, while he smiled down at me. Everything. I wanted everything from him, about him. And I would be happy to give him everything in return. 

When James was arrested, I realized that I wanted  _ more _ . All I wanted was to be with Niall. While my family was being torn apart, all I could think about was wanting Niall there with me. By my side, holding my hand and telling me that everything would be alright. 

And only one other person knew how I felt. Only one other person knew just how deep my feelings for Niall were. 

The night Baz disappeared, while we were at the club talking, I quietly confessed that I believed I was falling in love with Niall. Baz wasn’t surprised; told me he could practically see the tiny hearts floating above my head whenever we were with him. It was that confession that prompted Baz to suggest taking the conversation elsewhere. Possibly somewhere we could speak earnestly over some Gin and Tonics. 

I laugh bitterly at that memory. It seems so long ago, but now… Baz is gone, and I’ve just pushed Niall so far away, that I may as well consider him gone as well. 

I look out towards the Wavering Wood and focus on the wind pushing the leaves back and forth. It’s comforting to focus on the soft wind, and the swaying branches. 

I’m such an idiot. 

I should have told Niall as soon as I saw him. I should have told him everything. Bollocks to my family’s business being my own, Niall  _ IS _ my family. I realize that it’s high time I tell him everything (well, maybe not that I love him).

I stand up and wipe the dirt from my trousers and walk back to my room in a daze. I try to figure out what to say to Niall. Should I beg for forgiveness ( _ Have SOME dignity, Grimm! _ )? Will Niall want to hear any of it? There are so many different ways to begin this conversation, that I feel my mind becoming foggy once more. 

As I open the door, and see Niall in his pyjamas (blue plaid bottoms, Chelsea t-shirt) and on his bed, I already know what I’m going to say. I close the door and take a seat on my bed. Niall scoffs at me and turns away. I grab my wand and whisper a “ **_Silence is Golden_ ** ” (it’s a spell meant to sound-proof walls) before addressing Niall. 

“Baz is missing.” I whisper, my voice cracking. 

* * *

**NIALL**

He’s joking, right?

There is no way that Dev is serious right now. 

I barely hear him when he starts talking. I don’t think there’s anything he can say to me to make things better. I want to tell him to leave me alone, to not bother talking to me now.

But I stop, and I turn back to him. He’s sitting on his bed, leaning over, his hands gripping his knees. His face looks drawn, and there’s some dark stubble showing. 

I adjust myself, so that I’m sitting on the edge of my bed. I rub my eyes and think over what he’s just told me. “You’re shitting me… Right?”

Dev’s head snaps up and he stares at me, as if I’ve said the most idiotic thing. Maybe I have, but this all sounds completely mental. He points at himself and growls sharply at me, that I flinch “Fuck, Niall! Do I  _ look _ like I’m joking?” 

I shake my head, still not fully understanding. Baz is  _ missing _ ? How could he be missing? He’s  _ Baz! _ I narrow my eyes at Dev and speak slowly.

“Baz is  _ missing _ ? Since when?”

“About three weeks now. Maybe four.” Dev looks away from me. He is staring at the floor, and keeps running his fingers through his hair. I blink at him and start to count back in my head. Three weeks ago would put us to a few days before the start of the school year. 

Crowley… Has he been missing this entire time? Has Dev been keeping this inside the whole time, without telling me? I start to feel a small knot at the very pit of my stomach. I grip at the edge of my mattress as the words bounce around my mind.

“Three… Since  _ BEFORE _ school started?” I ask him, my voice coming out louder than I had expected. 

Dev nods sadly, not looking up to meet my gaze. I am glad of that, because I am absolutely incensed right now. I feel my face becoming warm with anger, and my blood rushes to my head. I quietly stand up (my legs feel shaky as I put weight on them) and close the gap between us. I stand in front of him, hands on my hips. 

“And you’re only telling me  _ now _ ?!” I squeeze my fists tight, my fingernails digging into my palm. It is taking every bit of self-control not to explode at Dev right now. I swallow, my throat already dry. Right now, I need an explanation; anything that explains why Dev didn’t bother telling me any of this. 

Dev speaks slowly, still refusing to meet my gaze. “I didn’t want to involve you.” 

That does nothing to calm me down. Instead, the knot in my stomach grows larger and tugs at me more forcefully. 

“Why the fuck not? Baz is missing and you didn’t want to involve me? I’m your best friend! Have you forgotten that!?” I shout at him. All the frustration and anger that I’ve felt has boiled over to the surface. Dev shakes his head wildly, rubbing his eyes. 

“I haven’t forgotten! It’s all I’ve been thinking about!” he cries. 

I begin to pace around our bedroom. “Bullshit! Dev, I’ve had  _ both _ your backs since First Year! Do you think that meant nothing?! Did you think I wouldn’t want to know about this!?” I feel my heart beating faster and faster as I stop right in front of Dev and stare down at him. 

_ Three weeks… three weeks!  _ That’s how long I’ve been kept in the dark for, and I can’t help but also feel completely abandoned by Dev. Fucking hell, it’s been absolute bollocks for me and I’ve been driven to near madness as a result of it!

Dev’s face shoots up, his face twisted into a dark glare. “That isn’t the point, Niall!” 

I roll my eyes and continue to pace the room. “Fuck, Dev! Is that why you’ve been avoiding me!?” 

Dev bolts up from his bed. He stalks over to me and stops me in my tracks. I find myself facing his (now bloodshot) demon-eyes. “Yes Niall! That’s why I’ve been avoiding you!” I pull back from him, a little surprised by his tone. I’ve given enough patience to last a lifetime to Dev, and now my patience is wearing very thin. 

“And what? Does seven years of friendship mean nothing to you?!” I shout at him.

Dev shifts his body uncomfortably and wraps his arms around himself. He doesn't meet my eyes anymore. I hate this, confronting him like this. It isn't who I am. I don't force a fight unless those I care about are involved. But,  _ fuck _ , I've been stuck here for weeks, not a word, not a hint of an explanation. Meanwhile, one best friend is out there, missing, and another would rather throw away seven years of friendship rather than bloody talk to me! 

Dev doesn't respond, so I continue, my anger still boiling inside of me. “ _ You’ve _ been keeping this secret from  _ me _ ! You didn’t think you could trust me with this!” 

“You don’t understa-”

“Make me understand! Because what  _ I  _ understood was that you both were done with me!" Fuck! My eyes are burning now. I clear my throat and try to steady myself. If Dev wants to play at hiding his emotions, well two can play at that game. I turn away and quickly dry my eyes.

“That isn’t the cas-” Dev starts. I don't want to hear it. I'm not done with him yet.

“Three weeks Dev! You’ve kept this for _ THREE WEEKS _ !” I also want to add that he hasn't spoken to me since July, but we're not there yet. I can't even think about that right now. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back from hitting something (most likely, Dev), or cursing something (most likely, Dev). 

“I had no choice, Ni-!”

I don't let him finish, I have more important questions for him. “And what do you mean by missing? What, did he get lost? Did his par-?”

“He’s been kidnapped!” Dev says. 

That shuts me up. I step back. “ _ What? _ ”

“Baz has been kidnapped!” Dev is finally looking at me, eyebrows furrowed. 

I look away from him. I don’t really understand what he’s saying. Baz can’t be kidnapped. He can’t. “But… He’s  _ BAZ _ ! How… H-” 

“I don’t know…” 

“What do you mean, YOU DON’T KNOW!!”

Dev doesn’t say anything and I want to shake him. I march up to Dev and grasp his shoulders.

“Is anyone looking for him? Why are we here!? WHY are  _ YOU _ here, Dev?!” I can’t control the pace of my questions, they’re rattling in my brain, along with the rest of my thoughts. I want to grab my things and leave. 

We have to leave. 

We can’t stay here! 

Not while Baz is kidnapped, right? 

We have to go! 

My mind is fuzzy, and I feel a lump in my throat. There’s too much happening right now, and I still don’t understand why Dev is still here! He’s Baz’s cousin! Shouldn’t he be helping to find him?! How many people know about this? I don’t even realize that I’ve been shaking Dev, until he swats my arms away from him.

“You think I  _ want _ to be here!?” 

“I don’t know what you want anymore!” I howl at him. 

“I don’t want to be here anymore than you do! But you know how my family is! You know how  _ Baz’s _ family is!”

Their bloody families and their warped sense of priorities. I know exactly how they are. As scary as Baz’s father and aunt are, they’re also the type to keep things under wraps, never letting anyone know what was going on. Knowing this does nothing to settle the thoughts in my mind. I’m so fucking frustrated! It appears that not even a kidnapping can change their stuck-up mentality. 

“Oh fuck the Pitches and their pride! He’s their last bloody heir!” I yell while flailing my arms. 

Dev scoffs bitterly, rolling his eyes. “Can’t show any weakness. Don’t you know that after being friends with Baz for 7 years? He won’t even let us near him when he feeds.”

That makes me roll my eyes. That much is true. We were all taught to keep our secrets hidden, for no one to see. No one took it to heart more than Baz, and I couldn’t blame him. With  _ his _ secrets, it was either keep them hidden, or lose everything. The Coven doesn’t take too kindly towards posh magical vampires, no matter what their circumstances were. 

I look back at Dev. He’s settled back down on his bed, his head in his hands. I walk to him, grabbing a chair on the way. Sitting down in front of him, I take in a sharp breath to try and calm my nerves (not really helping, but my mind has stopped racing, for the moment). 

“How did this happen?” I ask him, arms crossed across my chest, my right leg crossed over my left.

“We were at the club, about to head to his place. I went to grab some water. He was gone by the time I got outside.” Dev doesn’t lift his head. The words are so so quiet, so soft, that I need to lean in a little in order to hear them. 

“You… you were the last to see him?”

He slowly looks to me, and I can see the raw guilt in his eyes. Whatever happened that night, Dev feels responsible for it. I wish I knew what to do to help him, to alleviate the guilt he feels. I slowly reach out and rest my hand on his shoulder. Dev stiffens his back a little, but I remain steady. 

“Dev… why didn’t you tell me?” I ask him. Dev closes his eyes and looks away again. I won’t let him hide. I ask him again. “Don’t look away from me. You’ve been keeping me out for so long.  _ Why _ didn’t you tell me?” 

I hear him take a sharp breath. “My father warned me not to tell anyone. Said our family’s business is ours and ours alone.” The resentment in his voice is palpable and I find myself clenching my fist. Dev’s father can be so narrow-minded, always demanding too much out of his sons (especially Dev). I’ve had to bite my tongue the few times I’ve been in the same room with the man. Crowley, no wonder Dev’s been a wreck. 

“Your father’s a bit of a tosser, Dev!” I blurt out. I’ve never been shy to express how I truly feel about Dev’s father, and for the most part, Dev agrees with me. 

“No shit, Sherlock.” 

“Then why listen to him?!” I press him a little bit further. This is good. Dev is talking. 

“Because… As of right now, I’m the  _ only _ son who can listen to him!” Dev stands up from the bed and walks towards the window. I frown at him. 

“Where’s James in all this?”

Dev wraps his arms across his chest, and turns to face me. “James has been arrested.” He answers very timidly. 

I lean forward, towards him, eyebrows raised. “For  _ what _ ?” I ask him. Dev’s brother, James is a bit of a prat (all pomp and no substance), but I would never imagine that he’d do something that would call for his arrest. 

“The skirmish at the Peel wedding.” Dev says. It all clicks together. I didn’t attend the Peel wedding (my father had asked me to come, I refused on account of the groom being a right arsehole), but I had heard about it. Several mages got into a bit of a tussle and one cast a forbidden curse. There were a couple of arrests that night, but it was all kept under wraps. 

I feel like a punch has landed in my gut. W as the reason Dev's been avoiding me since July that his brother was arrested?! I get up and walk to him. 

“Seven snakes, Dev! Again, why the hell did you not tell me!? I could have helped you!” The anger that had subsided is back. The burning sensation in the pit of my stomach rises once more, filling my chest, my face, every inch of me. 

“Helped me with what?! There’s nothing you could have done!” Dev’s waving his arms, exasperated with me. I stare at him, incredulously. Dev decides to continue talking. “And this was a family--”

“Am  _ I _ not family?! CROWLEY, DEV!” I find my voice again and thunder at him. It just falls out, unexpectedly. A few salty tears have found their way past my eyes. I wipe at them furiously and stalk away. I give my bedpost a solid kick (really to prevent me from kicking Dev). 

“OF COURSE YOU ARE!” Dev yells back at me. Crowley, I really hope his sound-proofing spell is still working. I can only imagine what the other students would think if they heard us shouting like this. 

“THEN WHY SHUT ME OUT!?” I turn back to him. I must look quite mad now. My face feels red-hot, my eyes are probably bloodshot, and my hair is most likely a disaster from the way I’ve been pulling at it. 

“I wish I didn’t! It’s been killing me to keep this from you”, says Dev. I look at him, unable to respond to that. I shake my head, and turn from him. It’s difficult right now, to believe him, to trust that he won’t push me away again. 

“Niall… I-I’m so sorry…” He says it so quietly. His gaze meets my eyes and I finally get a good look at him. Dev has the face of someone on the edge of defeat. His eyes are sunken, his cheeks are worn. His hair has lost its lustre and definition. I am still so furious with him (and I’ll remain furious with him for the time being), but I could see that these last few weeks have been killing him. 

I slowly walk back to him and place my hands on his shoulders, softly. Neither one of us is really good at this comfort thing, but this is the best I can do for the time being. 

My back stiffens as I process what Dev’s told me. About Baz. About everything. Dev immediately pulls away from me and clears his throat, embarrassed. I run my hand through my hair and look back at him. Dev makes his way back to his bed and settles down. I start pacing the room again.

“Fuck… Baz is missing.”

“Yeah…” 

“Th-three weeks…”

“Yes…” 

“Fuck, do they  _ know _ ? Whoever’s got him?” Dev doesn’t look back to me. I think about Baz and his…  _ specific needs _ , and my mind begins to race. Baz and Dev told me about his  _ illness _ (really, what else would one call it?) during the summer before fifth year. Dev and I promised him that we would make sure no one else found out about it. We had even offered to be with him when he fed, but he refused. Dev and I knew better than to push. As far as we were concerned, he was still Baz (moody, posh, sarcastic Baz), only with an added set of specific dietary needs. 

But now… 

I ask Dev again, “Dev… do they  _ know?  _ They can’t possibly know he’s a vampire, right? Who else could know that?”

“I don’t know, Niall…”

“Crowley! Are his needs being met!?”

“I don’t know Niall…”

I continue, my thoughts escaping my mouth before I can stop them. “Is he starving? Fuck, Dev! Is Baz starving!?”

“I don’t KNOW, Niall! I wish I did know! I wish I was there with him to make sure he wasn’t starving to death!”

I look to Dev; He’s completely hunched over, head resting in his palms. Fingers curled into his hair. I forget my own panic and fear and settle on making sure Dev is taken care of. Making my way over to him, I kneel in front of him and gently take his hands in mine. Dev fights me at first, but eventually allows me to pull his hands away from his hair. His face starts to relax as I give his hands a small squeeze. 

“Dev… He’s not… He can’t be…” I start whispering. 

Dev’s head shoots up, almost knocking me back. His eyes are wild and unfocused. He’s spiraling. “We don’t know that! I should have been with him! I promised I’d have his back!” A few tears roll down his cheeks, so I softly run my thumbs over knuckles. This is more contact than Dev’s used to, but Crowley, he needs it right now.

“Dev, don’t blame yourself for this.” I want him to understand that this was not his fault, and is completely unfair of him to shoulder this burden. Dev looks at me, his eyes glistening. 

I want to pull him close. I want to hold him and tell him that everything will be ok. Is that what he needs right now? Does he need me to hold him? I decide to sit down next to him and rub his back instead. He can decide how much contact he wants from me. 

Dev sighs and leans against me. Maybe this is how _ I _ help him. I whisper to him, reminding him to breathe and that he’s allowed to let it out. I try to soothe him as best as I can, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t worried.

A part of me is still angry with him, and hurt over his decisions to keep me out of the loop. But he looks so small, and  _ Merlin _ how can I still beat him up over this? It would only add to his stress and how will that help anything? I don’t know if I’m ready to trust him completely right now, but I can be there to comfort him.

* * *

  
  


**DEV**

I just want him to stay here. I need him to stay here. It’s all too much right now. I’ve denied these emotions for so long, that now I’m caving into them. So I let myself lean into Niall’s touch. He rubs my back and I break down, sobbing onto his shoulder as he tells me over and over that Baz’s disappearance wasn’t my fault. 

He’s wrong, but I don’t want to argue with him anymore. I just want him to continue sitting beside me, to stay near me. 

I am emotionally exhausted. I’m not used to exposing so much of myself in such a small amount of time. But being here, with Niall, having him so close to me, is all I’ve wanted since July. I’ve been craving this physical contact and I want him to stay.

I know Niall’s still furious with me, and I don't blame him. The way I’ve acted has been completely moronic. I suspect that it’ll take some work for him to trust me again, but for now, I am glad that he’s decided to stay so I allow myself to be comforted by him. Even though I would love more of this, this closeness, this comfort, It doesn’t have to be more than what it is.

I want to show him that I will never leave him out again, that I will bear every inch of my soul to him, if he wants. “He’s my brother Niall. If he’s…” I can’t even finish that sentence because the thought of Baz not being around anymore… I can’t think about that. James may be my brother in name and blood, but in every other way, that honour goes to Baz. It’s why I was always up for whatever scheme or plan he came up with to antagonize Snow. It’s why I always offer (in not so many words) to help him with his dietary needs (which he will never take me up on, but I’m always ready to have extra blood on hand if he asks). It’s why I’ll never forgive myself if he doesn’t survive this. 

Niall wraps his other arm around me, and at first I want to pull away, but he feels so good. I succumb to the swirl of sandalwood (Niall’s soap) around me. Niall holds me in his arms for a few moments, before letting me go. 

“Hey, don’t think like that.” He says, fixing a steely glance at me. “It’s impossible to kill Baz Pitch. The arsehole’s indestructable!” 

I have to scoff at that, but Niall’s got a point. If anyone can get out of this, it’s Baz. I shudder as Niall’s hand moves to my back to keep me steady. I wish it didn’t. I want him to keep holding me gently. I straighten out and rest my elbows on my knees. 

“Dev. He’ll be back, being all moody again. In fact, I reckon he’ll be even more moody. He’ll probably be embarrassed that he let himself get kidnapped.”

I give him a small laugh at that. Crowley, Baz is already moody enough, I can only imagine just how much moodier he’ll be once he comes back ( _ if _ he comes back… he  _ has _ to come back). I don’t care, nor will I blame him. Baz can be as moody as he wants when he gets back, and it won’t matter to me. Any other alternative is far worse.

Niall bumps his shoulder gently to mine, interrupting my thoughts (he’s so good at that, pulling me out when I start to think too much). I stare at him, he’s biting his bottom lip (he does that, when he’s nervous). It drives me mad (he barely has any, and what little he has gets chewed on constantly). 

“Don’t shut me out, mate. I can help you.” 

“You can’t fix this.” 

“I can make sure you don’t stay alone in your head.” Niall presses a finger to my forehead and gently pushes me back. I give him a sarcastic laugh and shake my head again. The cynical side of me wants to keep pushing him away, wants me to point out to him that there is nothing he can do to help me. I tell that side to piss off. 

“I mean it. You don’t have to be alone.” Niall adds softly to me, and bloody hell, I can’t feel my lungs anymore. I feel as if a bag of bricks has hit my chest. All that time I spent alone and lost... I should have spoken to Niall much sooner. I should have never let this go on for so long. Niall can’t fix the problems that have been bothering me (as much as I want to, we can’t bring Baz back, nor can we hide James from The Coven), but having him by my side means I don’t have to go through this alone. 

Having him close, talking to him has helped immensely. I feel as though I can finally breathe normally again. The weight in my chest that has been pulling at me has loosened up. I feel...  _ free _ . 

And it’s all because of Niall.

I don’t ever want him to go away again. 

I don’t ever want to fight like this again. 

I turn to me and smile sadly at Niall “I can’t guarantee that, mate. I am a Grimm after all.”

“Bloody posh tosser.” He replies and lightly bumps my shoulder with his fist. 


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! I finally updated!
> 
> I won't get into why it took so long to update this fic, but I am back to working on it, after not touching it for 2 months. To celebrate, have an effing long chapter update!
> 
> Thank you to every one who has commented on this story, left Kudos, and those who encouraged me to keep writing it. 
> 
> Thank you to TBazzSnow (Artescapri) and Giishu for beta-reading this chapter. It was a doozy of a chapter to get though, and (like ch. 4) had to be re-worked and re-edited, and fixed up. But, I think I'm finally happy with it.
> 
> A little warning, this chapter contains a scene where the characters drink and get drunk. If alcohol consumption makes you uncomfortable, I totally get it. I'll be including a brief summary of what happened in the end notes. If you want to read up until that moment, it starts at _"Alright, that does it. I’m not allowing Dev to continue wallowing in self-pity."_ and goes up until the end. For the rest of you, DO NOT READ... IT CONTAINS SPOILERS!
> 
> Also, Dev has another minor panic attack in this chapter, so a warning for that as well.

**DEV**

Things are better now that I’ve told Niall everything. They are far from perfect, considering that James is still in custody and Baz is still missing (we are heading into six weeks now). But having Niall by my side, talking to me, keeps me grounded. He keeps me calm and makes sure my worries and anxieties don’t become overwhelming. He knows what to do if I’m ever veering too close to a panic attack (or maybe that’s just me feeling secure with him around). 

Niall has come up with a theory (or rather, a line of reasoning) with regards to Baz’s disappearance. Baz is the heir to the house of Pitch. If he were dead, and if the Old Families knew about it (Niall and I are certain that the kidnapping has more to do with this war and less about money), well we’d be seeing a battlefield on the Great Lawn. If anything, we’d be seeing Fiona wreaking havoc in retaliation. 

We have decided that, since all hell hasn’t broken loose yet, Baz must still be alive. It's not enough to calm my anxieties. There’s a lot that we still don’t know (and we’re not even absolutely certain that Baz even is still alive). Namely, who has him, why do they have him, and will we ever see him again? Those questions alone are enough to keep me from falling asleep most nights. 

This realization has left us with another worrisome thought. Namely, if Baz is still alive (after nearly six weeks of captivity), it must mean his captors  _ know _ . They’d have to know by now. It’s been nearly two months. That’s been our biggest concern regarding Baz’s kidnapping. I want to accuse Snow of being involved (tosser’s been ranting about Baz being a vampire since… well practically since he and Baz were cast together as roommates), but he’s been trailing us both for weeks, demanding we tell him where Baz is. It’s impossible that Snow is involved, and besides, I don’t think he has it in him to do something like this (he’s not  _ that _ stupid or reckless). 

Niall thinks The Mage is involved (considering our previous assumption that the kidnapping is related to the war), or someone’s been acting on the Mage’s behalf. I don’t even want to consider that possibility. What would that mean, if The Mage was involved? Is he  _ pushing _ for the war to start? We’ve noticed more of the Mage’s Men on the grounds, marching about, moving things around. Are they preparing for something? 

I could spend every day worrying about the impending war, about whether or not Baz is ever coming back, but how would that help anything? I think if I spend too much time thinking about this, I may end up sneaking out of Watford and never coming back. So instead, I focus on my coursework (doesn’t do much good, I still glance outside, wondering if today’s the day I’ll see a battle on the grounds). There is nothing either of us can do, and since I haven’t heard anything from my family, I should make sure I don’t fail all my classes. 

I haven’t officially rejoined the football team, but I have been sitting in during practices. Coach Mac allows me to join in for drills and practice games. I don’t have the heart to be fully committed to the team, but I go to give Niall as much support as I can, and to reassure him that he’s doing an excellent job as captain (and really, any extra time I get to spend with Niall is fine by me). 

I’m feeling better. I’m not completely myself again, but I’m managing to hold it together (for now, at least). 

I’m especially in a good mood now that classes for the day have ended. I’m looking forward to the weekend. Niall has been making sure I study, as well as take breaks to kick around a football (I wish we could do more, like hold hands).

We are walking towards the dining hall, when a message arrives by bird. Miss Possibelf has requested to see me in her office. Niall gives me a worried look. I try to give him a reassuring smile, but I don’t think he’s convinced. I lay a hand on his shoulder and give him a little shake. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll see you in the dining hall.”

“You better. I’m not going to wait for you before I start eating.”

“I don’t expect you to, you shit.” I laugh at Niall, and he smiles back at me. He gives me a friendly slap on the back and makes his way towards the dining hall.

As I walk towards Miss Possibelf’s office, I wonder why she’s called for me. My grades  _ have _ suffered since term began, but I’m turning them around. I think about the threat from weeks ago:

_ We’ve got people keeping an eye out for you Old Family types. One wrong move, one step out of line and you’ll be joining your brother.  _

Maybe I’m being accused of something. Maybe I’m about to be arrested like James was. Seven Snakes, that’s exactly what my mother needs to hear right now; that her youngest son was also arrested on false pretenses, while at school no less! I tug at my shirt collar, the tie suddenly feeling very tight around my neck. I think I feel the walls coming in closer around me. 

_ Keep it together Grimm. You’re fine. It isn’t anything more than academic talk. _

I take a deep breath and proceed forward. 

But… what if it’s not? What if there was something I did that could be grounds for expulsion? Or for an arrest. 

I tug nervously at the tie around my neck.

_ Dev… stop. Keep your feelings inside! You. are. fine. There is nothing you could have done that will get you arrested.  _

I take a deep breath and walk closer to her office. I keep repeating to myself over and over: 

_ I did nothing wrong.  _

A few steps. I can do this. I’m alright

_ I did nothing wrong.  _

There is nothing they can pin on me. I have been in school, attending classes. And Niall can vouch that I’ve never left his side.

_ I did nothing wrong.  _

Do they need a reason to arrest me? We keep hearing news of more and more friends being arrested outside of the school. Persephone Burke’s (8th year, dated Niall for a few weeks during 6th year) twin brother was arrested a few days ago, in his own home.

And  _ he  _ didn’t nearly get into a tussle with the Mage’s Heir only a couple of weeks ago.

_ Fuck! _

I’m getting arrested.

I can’t!

Not now.

I haven’t done anything. 

I need a moment. I need to pull this tie off (so. Fucking.  _ TIGHT! _ ). 

I need water, air,  _ something!  _

I need to run.

Fuck…  _ CAN _ I run?

Where can I run to? Where can I go?

I need somewhere to go!

I need… 

I need to  _ stop. _

I need to remember to breathe.

I take a step back and feel a wall coming to meet me. My hands grope the wall for a moment before I slide down. My hands anchor me to the floor and I try to breathe in deeply through my nose. 

I close my eyes and think of the one thing that never fails to calm me down. 

I think of Niall.

Warm, brown eyes.

Soft, auburn hair. 

Shy smile.

Brown eyes, spelled blue.

Bright blushing, freckles popping.

Wishing his hand was in mine.

My head on his shoulder.

A kiss on the top of my head. 

Telling him that I love his brown eyes. 

My tie doesn’t feel so tight anymore. I feel like I can breathe again (Crowley, I am so fucked with this Niall-obsession). I need to check myself in a mirror before my meeting (it will not do to look like I’ve just run a marathon).

I quickly slip into a washroom and to fix my hair up, as best as I can.

Now that my mind is clearer, my thoughts become less hectic. If I were to really think about it, I imagine the Coven could just walk into the classroom to arrest me. No need to get the Dean of Students involved. 

I reach her office and knock on the door. 

“Come in!” 

The office of the Dean of Students isn’t very large. Just enough room for a desk, and a couple of bookshelves. I stand by the door, trying not to show how nervous I actually am. Miss Possibelf is seated at her desk, fully engaged in some paperwork it seems. I clear my throat. 

“You requested to see me, Miss?”

She looks up at me. Miss Possibelf is a rather severe-looking woman. Crowley knows I’ve had to show up in her office many times before on account of past shenanigans. She has this way of talking to you where you’d do best to listen and remember every word. As much as she terrified me when I was younger, I’ve learned to respect her more than anything. Besides, she does care about her students.

Her face remains impassive as she points to the seat in front of her desk.

“Ah yes, Mr. Grimm. Please take a seat.”

I slowly take a seat and place my hands on my lap. I hope my face doesn’t give away the anxiety I’m feeling. Today, I need to act every bit the Grimm that I am. 

“As you are aware, Mr. Grimm, outside communications have been prohibited this year, as per the Headmaster’s orders.”

_ Outside communication? _

My face remains unmoving. I slowly nod at her.

“Yes, Miss.”

“Mr. Grimm, a letter arrived for you, from your mother.”

She pulls an opened letter out from her desk. I lean towards the desk and place my hands on the polished wood. If my mother wrote a letter, that means there has been news. She slides the letter over to me. I pick it up in my hands and turn it over. I feel rage simmering in the pit of my stomach. 

_ Why was it opened? _

_ What did they possibly think was inside? _

What could my mother have possibly written me, that was subject for review.

Is it about James?

Did they find Baz?

I frown at Miss Possibelf, who meets my cold gaze with a sympathetic one of her own.

“Mr. Grimm.  _ Dev _ , your letter was confiscated and reviewed. The Headmaster and his… associates, had some concerns regarding the contents of the letter.”

So my private correspondence was read over by The Mage and those minions of his? And for what? What concerns could they have about me? I squeeze my hands into tight fists, feeling my fingernails digging into the palms of my hands. “ _ Concerns?” _ I spit out. I try to control my breathing, but the anger rising in me makes it very difficult. The tie around my neck feels tight again, and there is a pounding growing behind my eyes. 

“About what?” I ask her. 

“I wish I could tell you, but the Headmaster chose to keep those concerns quiet. I’ve been allowed to give the letter to you.”

I shift my gaze to the letter in my hands. It isn’t very long, only a couple of paragraphs in my mother’s neat cursive script.

_ Dear Deveraux, _

_ I apologize if this letter reaches you at an inopportune time. I realize that you are most likely in the midst of your studies. Your father didn’t want me writing to you. I think he was worried it would distract you too much. _

_ What I have to say is brief. Your brother’s trial has been moved up to the beginning of January, directly following the Christmas Holidays. Your father has been working long hours to try and get James’ trial postponed, but to no avail.  _

_ I know you will want to be there for James and for us, but you need to stay in school. We will not have you risking your education for this. We will see you over the Holidays. _

_ Please keep yourself well, my dear son. Take care of yourself.  _

_ Love,  _

_ Mother _

I read the letter over a few times, my hands shaking as I take in every word. I try to grasp the meaning of the entire letter, but only a few sentences stand out to me.

_ Your brother’s trial has been moved... _

_ Directly following the Christmas Holidays… _

_ You need to stay in school… _

_ Your father didn’t want me writing to you... _

Why would the Coven move up James’ trial? Crowley,  _ January? _ We thought we had up until April. What if there isn’t enough time to build up a proper defense for him? Will there be enough time to prove that he was provoked (and he  _ was! _ The other mage sought him out that day!)?

Why did my father want to keep this from me? I shouldn’t be surprised, they probably want me to be the face of the Grimm Family, putting on a show as if nothing was wrong. 

That’s most likely the reason they still won’t call me back home. If they called me home, who would be around to put up a brave face, to pretend that everything is bloody perfect? 

My face feels warm, I have sweat beginning to form across my palms. My leg is bouncing frantically, and I am resisting the urge to run my fingers through my hair. I remember that Miss Possibelf is still staring at me, watching me, a deep look of concern over her eyes. 

_ I am a Grimm. My thoughts are mine and mine alone. My feelings are mine and mine alone. My business is mine and mine alone.  _

I calmly put the letter back into the envelope and put it into my messenger bag. I clear my throat and face her again. 

“Was there anything else for me, Miss?” I ask her. A part of me hopes that there’s some information about Baz. A hint, or a secret code in another letter, something to let me know that he was alright?

“No, Mr. Grimm, that was all. Should there have been anything more?”

She gives me a look that isn’t suspicious, so much as it’s curiosity. I know she wants to help, and I know that she’s hoping I’ll open up to her. But I can’t. How could I even begin to talk to her about everything? About Baz? About the details of my brother’s arrest? Am I supposed to confess to just how much I’ve been torturing myself since term began?

Am I supposed to admit that I would do anything to leave the school and be with my family?

I speak in a low voice, my gaze shifting to my hands; “No… I was just worried... About my mother.”

She leans over and places her hands on her desk. She speaks in a quiet, soft voice. “I suggest, Mr. Grimm, that you take this opportunity to continue focusing on your studies. Let those outside of Watford deal with the rest. There is no need to carry the weight of your family on your shoulders.”

Right. If only she knew. I clear my throat. 

“Thank you, Miss. Was that all?”

Her face falls. I know she means well, but there are some things I cannot share. “Yes, Mr. Grimm,” she says. “That will be all. You may head back to the dining hall.”

I leave the room, not stopping to look back at her. My head is still buzzing from it all and from reading the letter from my mother. 

As I’m walking down the hall, I pass a group of Mage’s Men. I haven’t been harassed by any of them stationed at the school, but they have been staring at me on occasion, as I pass them in the halls, or on the grounds. It’s as if they want me to be aware of their presence at the school, as if they’re waiting for me to fuck up some how. I haven’t… yet. No one’s come to bother us. Other than the run in a couple of weeks ago, Snow has been off my case (unless you count the few times Niall caught him trailing us, thinking we’ve got Baz hidden in a barn or something) (I wish it were that simple) (I wish this was all an elaborate joke). I don’t see myself getting into a tussle with him anytime soon (especially not with Niall calming me down). 

Their looks of suspicion bother me, even if they were brief. I could have sworn they were whispering to each other. What were they whispering about? Will there be accusations being thrown my way? Especially now that my brother’s trial is being pushed up? How many of these Mage’s Men will look at me, the younger Grimm, and wonder if I should be placed under surveillance? Maybe I should do something drastic to get myself thrown out. At least I’d be home. At least I won’t be stuck here, driving myself crazy.

It’s a fleeting thought. I could never do something like that. It would do more harm than good. My mother doesn’t need the added stress. My father already has to deal with defending one son, adding another would send him to an early retirement. 

Then there’s Niall… Crowley, could I do that to Niall? Now that he’s finally forgiven me for being such a wanker towards him? I can’t stand to hurt him again... I  _ won’t  _ hurt him again. 

I reach the dining hall, but I don’t go inside. Instead, I make my way towards Mummers House. I’ve got too much on my mind right now. I need to be away from everyone and process the news. Niall will understand. I’ll tell him everything in our room. But I can’t face him. 

Not like this. 

“Dev! Is everything alright?”

A melodic voice cuts through the air and snaps me out of my thoughts. I whip my head around to see Agatha Wellbelove running towards me. 

_ Merlin, help me, what does she want? Am I meant to be tormented by Snow’s entire troupe now? _

I take a deep breath and cross my arms. I give her a long cold stare and pour as much poison as I can into my voice. 

“Go away, Wellbelove. Shouldn’t you be hanging off of Snow’s arm or something?”

She rolls her eyes and stands defiantly (all hands on her hips and an angry scowl - not a very good look for her, people like Wellbelove do better all smiley and bright). 

“I do have a life outside of Simon, I’ll have you know.”

“Wonderful.”

I turn to walk away, but she catches my arm. 

“Wait, Dev!” I stop and glare at her. I yank my arm away from her grasp. She doesn’t seem to be letting up. I rub my eyes and take a deep long sigh. I just want to be back in my room, away from everything and everyone, but since Wellbelove has cornered me here and refuses to leave me alone, I guess I’m stuck listening to whatever she has to say. She tucks a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear and looks at the floor. “I saw you going to see Miss Possibelf. Did that have to do with Basil?”

I nearly drop the shoulder bag I’m carrying.

_ “What?” _

“It’s just… It’s been nearly six weeks… Where is he, Dev?”

Bloody fucking hell, this is not happening. I am not having this discussion, especially not with Agatha bloody Wellbelove who will most likely take any and all information back to Simon Snow the second I turn my back. I back away from her and raise my hand to put some more distance between us. 

I focus my energy and thoughts on making sure my face stays impassive and devoid of emotion. 

_ I am a Grimm. I am a Grimm. I am a Grimm. Don’t let her see your thoughts. They are not for her or anyone else. They are yours and yours alone.  _

“That is none of your concern, Wellbelove. And why on Earth would I tell  _ you  _ anything? So that you can skip back to your boyfriend and tell him?”

She steps closer to me, reaching out for my hand. I shift myself away from her grasp. I don’t want her touching me. I don’t need her acting all sweet, and comforting towards me. She focuses her golden brown eyes on my own and tries to stare the information out of me. I’m a little put off by those eyes of hers. I’m stuck thinking about Niall’s eyes. These are nothing like his (his are a dark, rich brown) (deep,  _ earthy _ ).

“Is he missing, Dev?”

My eyes widen. I have to turn away from her, so that she doesn’t pick up on my reaction. Why would she think that? Out of all the other rumours I had heard about Baz (dark rituals, planning an insurrection, bloody  _ Ibiza) _ the actual truth never once came up. It seemed absolutely unfathomable that  _ Baz Pitch  _ could go ever missing. 

“This conversation is over.” I speak quietly, hoping that no one around us can hear me. I walk away from her, but I hear the click-clack of her heels on the pavement, following me. She won’t let this go. She grabs me by the arm again and turns me around. Agatha then gets really close to my ear and whispers in a hushed tone.

“He is… isn’t he? All this time?” 

I should threaten her, maybe. Make her wish she’d never started talking to me. It’s what my father would do, or my uncle. But, I stare at her, at the look of concern on her face, and I can’t do it. I am not the kind of person that goes around threatening my classmates. Besides, if word about this gets out, it could be bad for me. It will not do for an Old Family son to go around threatening the child of a Coven member. Not to mention the explosion that would come should Snow ever find out I intimidated his girlfriend. 

But she’s treading on thin ice, and this secret is not one I can afford to get out (especially since we don’t know who has him, or if he’s even still alive). 

I yank my arm away from her once more and calmly place my hands on her shoulders. I peer into her eyes and give her the coldest look I can muster. I lean towards her and speak in a calm, very quiet voice.

“Whatever you’re thinking, Wellbelove, I highly suggest you cast it out of your mind. And forget this conversation ever happened!”

I let go of her and turn around once more. I stalk away from her, my goal being to get as far away from her as possible, as quickly as I can, before I give away any other secrets. Thankfully, she chooses not to follow me this time. Instead, I hear her call out as I’m walking away; 

“You can’t hide this forever, Dev! Too many people are talking! Someone's bound to figure it out!”

I ignore her, and continue walking (practically running). All I can think about now is making my way to Mummers before the shock of the day hits me full force. 

Wellbelove  _ knows _ . 

She knows, and her father is on the Coven! The same Coven who, in all likelihood, probably knows exactly where Baz is (or knows someone who knows where Baz is). 

I’m an idiot. 

I hurry my steps, nearly running to get to my room. I think about Wellbelove, I think about the suspicious looks, I think about my brother being cast out of magic, and his wand snapped. 

I think about Baz, and how someone now knows he’s missing, and all because I’m a pathetic excuse for a Grimm. 

So much for keeping my feelings and thoughts inside. 

I get into my room and slowly sink to the floor. I thread my fingers through my hair and roughly scrape the back of my head. 

Suspicious looks.

James cast out.

Snapped wands

Baz missing.

Secrets exposed.

_ I need to act like a Grimm. I need to keep my bloody feelings inside! _

_ I am a Grimm.  _

_ I need to calm down.  _

_ I am a Grimm. _

_ I need to remember to breathe. _

_ I am a Grimm. _

_ I need to forget about this day. _

_ I need... _

_ I need… _

_ Niall. _

* * *

  
  


**NIALL**

Dev isn’t showing up to dinner. 

He isn’t showing up to dinner, and I’m starting to worry about him. 

I shouldn’t worry about him (of course I’m worried about him), he’s probably fine ( _ is he, though? _ ). 

But Dev isn’t showing up to dinner. 

I don’t want to think about the worst case scenario (Dev being arrested, or kicked out, or injured) ( _ Stop it, Niall!) _ , but these are not normal circumstances, and what if Dev’s been falsely accused of something? What if he’s been arrested?

I think I’d fight a crowd of Mage’s Men with my bare hands if they took him. 

If I could protect Dev, I think I would fight anyone. 

I just got him back, and I’ll be damned if something takes him away from me again (as I’m sure he’d do for me, it’s what best mates do for each other, after all). 

I move the beef and vegetables in my stew around. I should try to eat something. But, it's really hard for me to find anything appetizing right now with these thoughts running in my head. I look around me; everyone seems to be enjoying their dinners, while I’m here, ready to empty my stomach of mine. 

_ Keep it together, Niall. Dev is fine. He’s probably back in our room.  _

I take a tentative bite of beef, and try to control the shaking of my leg, under the table. It is highly unlikely that Dev would be called into Miss Possibelf’s office, just to be arrested. I’ve been called into her office plenty of times (I am not the strongest student, I’ll admit) (and we may have had moments of destruction between Dev and myself) (not to mention my parents’ scandalous divource during fourth year), and each time, she’d been a sympathetic (if not harsh) person; always wanting to do what’s best for her students. To lure one into her office just to have them arrested does not sound like something she would do. 

It could be that Dev was called in because his parents sent an update to him.

I immediately think of Baz. I wonder if they’ve found him… If it isn’t good news. 

But no. I can see Snow eating with Bunce and surely if there was a war starting, he’d be front and center of it. I don’t hear any explosions happening, so no one’s stormed the gates. And there doesn’t seem to be a grief-maddened Fiona setting fires to buildings.

Baz might still be missing. I don’t think the Pitches would send word if he were found alive. Baz’s family (and Dev’s) are the type to keep these things extremely private. If I’m right, and if this is a matter related to the war, I’m almost certain they would want to keep him as far away from the opposing side as possible. They would keep him contained in their manor and make sure he never stepped foot into Watford again (though I’d love to see them try and stop him) (we’ll know Baz is fine by him showing up one day, acting like nothing happened) (fucking Pitch). 

It doesn’t answer the question as to why Dev was called into Possibelf’s office. Whatever answers I’m looking for, I won’t find them here, and it looks like Dev won’t be making it to dinner at all. I make my way to the serving table and grab some food for him (a bowl of stew and some fruit), before leaving the hall. 

I try not to worry about Dev as I walk. He’s got to be in our room. There aren’t many other places he could be, save for the football pitch, or in the Weeping Tower (in a cell) ( _ Stop it, Niall! He’s not in a blasted cell!) _ .

The breath I wasn’t aware I was holding in releases as soon as I open our door. Dev’s sitting on the floor, and he doesn’t look good. His knees are pulled up against his chest, head hanging low. I notice that his dark brown curls are masking his face. I place the plate of food on my desk, before going to Dev. I slowly brush the curls away from his face, but he doesn’t look up at me. 

“Dev…”, I give his shoulder a small shake. He just shakes his head. 

I can’t avoid the pressing question any longer. 

“Dev. Is it Baz? Did… Did anyone find him?” I ask softly.

He gives a bitter laugh. I suppose that’s a no then. My shoulders release the tension they’ve been holding in since I entered the room. 

“Why would anyone tell me if they did?” he says. “It’s not like I’d be allowed to do anything about it.”

I sigh. No news is better than bad news, I repeat in my head. No news means there’s still hope of finding him. No news means our friend is still alive. No news means things might still go back to normal (as normal as they  _ can _ be considering the circumstances). I sit down in front of Dev and hold onto his knees. I give them a little shake. 

“Dev. Talk to me. What was that meeting about?”

He looks up at me, and I’m relieved to see that his face isn’t streaked with tears. Dev looks furious, and just about ready to throttle somebody. I keep my hands firm on his knees.

“My brother’s trial is being moved up.” His voice is raspy, almost strained. Crowley what was he doing up here before I arrived? 

“Moved up? What for?”

“Crowley knows why.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Probably to move things along. I think the Coven wants to start making serious moves against the Families.”

Dev leans back against the wall and I make my way next to him. I want to know about his brother, about what he feels about the news. I also don’t want to push him any further. Dev has spent most of the semester keeping closed up. I don’t want to do anything that may push him to shut me out again. What I can do is stay here and let him decide just how much he wants to tell me. 

“My mother sent me a letter”, Dev says. 

“What did she say?”

“Not much. James’ trial is moving up a few months. The letter was opened  _ As per the Headmaster’s Orders. _ ” He makes air quotes around the words “Headmaster’s orders”. I roll my eyes and bark out a sarcastic laugh. It’s as if they think their own students are having secret meetings in the dorms. What do they think we’re capable of planning? Most of us can barely even keep our grades out of the red, let alone plot a revolution. 

“Crowley Dev… They’re already treating you like you’re a spy or something.”

That was the wrong thing to say, because Dev leaps up from the floor and starts pacing nervously around the room. I stay where I am, and let him lead the conversation. 

“I wish they were. I wish I was being of  _ some _ use to my family, instead of spending my days learning Greek I’ll never use, and History that’ll be meaningless once this war begins! You know I almost wish I was being escorted off the grounds? At least if I was kicked out, I’d be able to talk to my parents, to  _ help! _ ”

My eyes dart back and forth as Dev paces. He’s not thinking clearly. We’ve had this conversation plenty of times in the last week. Dev is still full of guilt over a lot of things. He still wishes he could be out of school, helping his family. He still harbours a whole lot of guilt over Baz disappearing. I can't stand to see him like this, and besides, it's becoming distracting to watch him. I stand up and stop his nervous pacing by grabbing hold of his shoulders. 

“Be serious, Dev! Do you really think getting yourself into trouble with the Coven is going to help matters?”

“Anything is better than this!"

Alright, that does it. I’m not allowing Dev to continue wallowing in self-pity. We have something, hidden in our room, to help in situations like this. I let go of him and head towards my dresser to find some emergency liquor. Normally, I’m not one for drinking away emotions, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I figure, we’ll have a couple of drinks between the two of us, and then take a long walk through the grounds, so that he can clear his head. 

Dev throws himself onto his bed and turns his back to me. I let him sulk while I rummage through my things for what I’m looking for.

During our fifth year, the three of us decided to sneak some alcohol onto the school grounds. We had a whole elaborate scheme set up to do it, involving Dev casting a temporary glamour charm on the liquids, and Baz distracting a very nosy Simon Snow. We managed to sneak several bottles into our room that year and would occasionally share a drink. Well, Dev and I did most of the drinking; Baz, uptight git that he is, would never take more than a couple of sips (unless you count the time where he filled an entire flask of whisky before skulking away, but we don’t mention that -- Fifth year was a rough year for Baz). We made sure to replenish our stock each year. 

I pull out a bottle we haven’t opened yet, but I figure today calls for something especially strong. It’s a Bowmore Scotch, aged about 12 years. I swiped it from my father’s collection last year and he has yet to notice it missing. I grab two of the three glasses I keep with the alcohol and fill them about half-way. I sit down on Dev’s bed and nudge his knee. 

“I’m not in the mood, Niall. I just want to lay down and forget this day happened.”

“Don’t be such a tit, Dev. Take the bloody drink and enjoy it!”

He sits up and snatches the drink from my hand. He stares at it thoughtfully, swishing the liquid inside. He looks up at me and raises his glass. 

“To James… May the bloody Coven show him some clemency.”

I clink my glass to his and take a small sip. I recoil a little and cough. Morgana, the stuff is strong and stings a little as it makes its way down my throat. I don’t hate the smokey taste of it though. I take another sip, and see that Dev’s already holding his empty glass to me. 

“Woah, mate! This stuff is pretty strong!” 

“I thought we were drinking away the shit, were we not?” He gives me a dark look, and I shake my head at him. 

“ Dev, take it easy. Remember your last birthday, when you had just three glasses of gin and spent an hour trying to convince us to spell you over the moat ”

“You suggested this. So either you pour, or I will.”

I sigh and pour him another round. Dev can probably go for a few glasses before it starts to hit him hard. I think if I plan it properly, I can slowly give him less alcohol each time. The whole point of this is to help him feel a little better, not worse. 

Dev lifts his glass again. “To my parents, who did not think to call me home.”

He takes a large gulp. 

“Who still think I’m a bloody child!”

Another large gulp. 

“And who think it’s better to keep everything locked up inside.”

And with that, he polishes off his second drink. Meanwhile, I’ve managed to get about halfway through mine. He holds out his glass to me again, eyebrows furrowed. I’m starting to regret coming up with this idea. Maybe we should have just gone for some fresh air. Kick a football around, instead of getting completely piss drunk.

I hesitate pouring him some more, which causes Dev to grab the bottle from my hand and give me a look of disgust.

“I’ll be fine, Connors”, he says as he pours himself a generous amount. He can be such a prick sometimes, and it’s hard work to not get frustrated with him. I collect the plate from the dresser. I cast a quick  **_“Some like it Hot!”_ ** and hand it to him. He turns away from me, but I practically shove it onto his lap. 

“At least eat something, if you insist on getting absolutely pissed!”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Right, but don’t expect me to hold your hair back as you empty your stomach!”

Dev grunts at me (I wonder sometimes how he and Baz are related), but accepts the food. "Fine… After this round.” I take the bottle from him and top off my drink. Dev stares at the drink in his hand, and clinks it to mine. 

“To the Coven. Let us hope they don’t snap my brother’s wand, and come for mine next!”

“Dev…” I place my hand on his knee. He downs the drink in one fluid gulp and coughs out the fire of the alcohol. I take a hearty drink of mine, because the thought of Dev getting arrested fucking terrifies me. I nudge his shoulder when he finishes his drink. 

“Dev, eat something.”

He looks up at me, and I can see that his eyes are a little unfocused. A slight pinkish blush is making its way across his dark olive cheeks. He turns away from me and eats the stew. I can’t help but notice him swaying a little bit as he swallows spoonful after spoonful. He takes a little break when he’s halfway done, to look back at me. He gives me a small smile. 

“Niall?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you so good to me?”

I’m a little taken aback by his question. I wasn’t expecting to have a candid discussion. Then again, Dev’s already polished off three glasses of Scotch, so the weird questions are to be expected. I laugh a little at him (because I honestly don’t know what else to do). 

“Are you already pissed? Crowley, Grimm, you’re such a lightweight.” I point to his plate “Keep eating, unless you want to hate yourself tomorrow.”

Dev rolls his eyes, but continues to eat the food I brought him. As I watch him eat, I think about the question he asked me.  _ “Why are you so good to me?” _

I'm not good to just anybody, But Dev's my best mate, and why wouldn't I take care of him if he needed me to? 

Besides, he'd do the same for me. I wonder if he's still beating himself up for shutting me out. I wish he wouldn't. Things between us are as normal as they could be… considering Baz is still missing.

Dev’s looking at me, eyebrows scrunched together. He's managed to eat most of what's on his plate. He flashes me a small smile, and I think I need some more scotch. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Could go for another round, I think. Still want to run out of this bloody place,” he giggles but his eyes remain dull.

"Right... Another round then.”

I grab the bottle and pour us another glass. Dev’s already raised his in the air. 

“To Watford! Let nothing separate us from each other! Except politics, self-righteousness, and over-eager post-grads with superiority complexes!” 

He downs the drink again. Maybe I should have cut him off. He's looking a little wobbly. I guess the food wasn't enough. I reach for his empty glass, but he pulls it away. He looks up at me, the amber in his eyes shining vividly.

“Niall... please? I'm... I'm not done.”

Fuck him… Fuck him for looking so pathetic that I can't say no to him. I sigh and pour him half a glass. He wants more, fine. But he doesn't need to end up in the infirmary tonight due to alcohol poisoning. 

I'm also rubbish at anti-hangover spells so he's in for a load of pain tomorrow.

Dev’s staring at the glass, not saying anything. 

He swirls the liquid. Slowly turning the glass around in his hands. He’s still frowning, and I find myself wishing I could say something to take that away.

What  _ would _ I say? That this is all right? That we're all going to be okay? I don't know that. No one knows that. Instead, I sit down next to him on his bed, and place my hand on his shoulder. Dev takes a deep breath and raises his glass. 

“To... To…”. He's struggling with his words. Becoming choked up. I reach for his glass.

“Dev… We can stop…”

He schools his face, and becomes a Grimm again (conceal, don't feel... Fucking Disney…). 

“To Baz. Hopefully he is still alive. Wouldn't know if he wasn't. Maybe the bastards who have him have managed to keep him alive!”

I try to not get choked up after he says his toast. I’ve been trying to keep it together so far, for Dev, but I can’t anymore. It’s fucking devastating, not knowing where Baz is, if he’s ever going to come back. 

I take a small sip of my drink.

He’s my best friend too. Like Dev, Baz has always had my back, especially after my parents’ divorce. Showing he cared by offering a place to stay when things got hard, or reminding me to get out of the house. I’m forever grateful to him for those months. He made sure I didn’t feel alone or abandoned, and I was glad to return the favor whenever I could. Either by listening to him when he needed a talk (a rare occasion), or by covering for him when he needed to hunt. I meant it then… I still mean it now. I would do anything to know he was alright. 

I take another sip of the scotch in my hand.

My hand is shaking. I’m at risk of spilling the scotch onto the floor. I take a big gulp of the stuff in an effort to calm my nerves. 

He has to make it out. He’s  _ Baz fucking Pitch _ . He needs a fucking win in his life. His life can’t end this way. Alone. Surrounded by those who wish to harm him. He needs to be back here, with us, those who have his back. 

Another gulp.

He has to come back. Crowley...  _ please…  _ just let him survive this. 

I finish off my drink and notice that Dev’s downed his glass as well. He’s currently holding a shaky arm out. I hesitate to pour, and he glares at me.

“Niall, I could take you. I really don't want to, but if you don't give me the bottle…”

“You're lucky you're even getting any. I should be tossing this bottle to the merwolves with how much you’ve been drinking.”

I refill our glasses again. Maybe I should stop as well. I can feel the edges of my ears heating up. I suspect that my face has taken a bright tomato-red colour.

Bloody wonderful. 

Dev is leaning forward. I place a hand on his shoulder to steady him, but he doesn't seem to notice. He doesn't raise his glass this time.

“To my miserable life. Forever stuck in my family's bullshit. Stuck being a neurotic mess who needs a bloody bottle of Scotch to feel any emotion.”

I squeeze his shoulder. I hate seeing him like this. This wasn't the point of tonight. I wanted to loosen him up, get him to laugh. It seems that tonight brought up all the pain he's been feeling, exacerbated by the news from home. I polish off my glass, feeling tipsy myself. My movements feel lighter and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep my eyes open.

I reach for Dev's glass again. Thank Merlin, he finally lets me take it. I put the glass on the dresser and sit down next to him again. His green and amber eyes are staring holes into mine. They almost look like they’re peering into my soul. It’s easy to get lost inside Dev’s eyes, what with them being demonic and all (they aren’t demonic). 

I must be drunker than I thought, because my face suddenly feels very warm.

“There  _ is  _ one thing in my life that isn't fucked up.” He says to me. 

I’m nervous all of a sudden, and I start chewing on my lip. I don’t normally feel nervous around Dev. I wonder if the alcohol is getting to my head. My heart even skips a beat. I glance down at his hand, and wonder what he means by that.

“How do you figure, Dev?” I ask him.

He still stares at me, a dreamy smile is plastered on his face. I suddenly want to know what’s going on in his head. What’s making him smile like that (am  _ I _ making him smile like that?)?

Merlin, why is it so hot in here? I could have sworn the windows were left open. 

Dev tilts his head towards me and his tongue runs across the bottom of his lip. Have I always wanted to trace my finger across it?

_ Crowley…  _ why is it suddenly so difficult for me to breathe?

Dev whispers, and suddenly the alcohol hits the bottom of my stomach, making me feel so dizzy. “Niall... Why do you spell your eyes blue?”

I pull away from him. My face is  _ definitely  _ red now.

“Fuck did you just say?”

Dev reaches for my hand, and I'm still so shocked by what he's asked me, that I let him.

Why do I spell my eyes blue? I am  _ not  _ pissed enough to deconstruct my self-image issues right now. I instead stare at Dev’s hand clasped in mine. Should I pull it away? Should I keep holding on? I’ve known Dev for seven years, and he rarely (if ever) shows this side of him. And why is it coming out to me now? I stare back at his lips, and he’s licking them again. 

Why is looking at Dev’s lips giving me the desire to feel them on mine? They look pretty, his lips. And his hand feels nice in mine. It’s warm, and a little rough. 

_ Niall… stop it. This is Dev.  _

Dev pulls me closer to him... I let him (because of the scotch) (and I'm tired) (and... I don't know). He reaches for my face with his hands. And I’m starting to feel like this is all too much for me. Where is this coming from? The Dev I know would never be this physical with someone. Dev keeps himself closed off, he always has.

I think… I think Dev may be trying to  _ flirt _ with me.

But I can’t do anything about it. 

I  _ shouldn’t _

It would be taking advantage of Dev in a vulnerable moment. A moment where he needs comfort and support. The last thing he needs is me doing something drastic like kiss him (do I want to kiss him?) or hold him (since when have I wanted to do  _ that _ ?), when I’m not even sure it’s what we both want. 

But fuck… He’s still looking at me, with that smile on his face. And fuck… he’s looking at me like  _ he’s  _ ready to kiss me. 

What does he want from me?

What do I want from him?

Do I even want anything from him?

“Niall, I like your eyes brown. Why do you spell them blue?”

This is too much for me right now. I’m too confused by all of this. Here’s Dev, who up until recently would freeze and shift uncomfortably at someone else’s touch, yet he’s here, holding my face in his hands and saying all this romantic stuff to me, like it’s something we do everyday. 

And saying he  _ likes _ my brown eyes! Seven snakes, how fucking pissed is he? No one likes my boring, dirty brown eyes. My eyes are the least spectacular thing about me. This whole conversation makes no sense. If anything, it’s so fucking weird, and a strong reminder why Dev should not be drinking more than a couple of glasses of alcohol. 

We are not having this conversation right now. No matter how flirty he’s being now, he may wake up tomorrow completely regretting tonight. And where would that leave me?

Hoping that Dev doesn’t decide to avoid me for another two months, I reckon. 

No… This can’t happen. Dev is my best friend. I won’t risk losing him again. Not for this. 

I gently move his hands away from my face and straighten my back. I give him a small smile. “Mate, I think you've had a little too much to drink.”

Dev giggles and reaches one of his hands up to me again. I should move away. I should insist he go to bed.

But I can't move. I'm stuck to the bed. My feet cemented to the floor. My brain is telling me to stop this before we do something we’ll both regret tomorrow. 

But everything else is telling me to stay. And that maybe I want this. Maybe I’ve wanted this for a long time (longer than I may have realized). 

Maybe the thought of Dev cutting me out of his life was heartbreaking for other reasons aside from losing my best friend. 

Maybe I want to hold him in my arms and tell him that I love his smile and that I want to see him  _ happy _ all the time. I want to be the one who gets to make him happy. 

Dev runs one of his hands through my hair. For how rough his hand is (fucking fire mage, he and Baz both) Dev feels so soft. Gentle. I'm blushing (damn scotch) and my pulse quickens (never drinking Bowmore again), and I feel my hands becoming clammy (I don't even  _ like  _ scotch).

Regardless, I lean closer into his touch.

What am I doing? This is  _ Dev _ ! And he isn't in his right mind. I need to stop.

And yet...

_ And yet... _

“To you... Niall.” 

“What?”

“To the one person keeping me afloat... Niall... I…”

He leans closer to me and while I may regret this, I think I want to reach out to him. 

He’s so lovely. 

I touch his gorgeous, well-maintained curls. As Dev leans closer, I can smell the remnants of the alcohol on his breath.

He's leaning closer.

I close my eyes.

Is this happening?

Are we going to do this?

Fuck… 

I want this.

My thoughts are interrupted by Dev suddenly falling on my shoulder. Fucking numpty is here laughing up a storm, while I am left having a crisis because I now want to kiss my best friend.

I roll my eyes at him. He is such a bloody tosser! He will probably forget all about this tomorrow. 

Meanwhile, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget this (even if I wanted to… maybe I don’t want to…). 

Dev buries his face into the crook of my neck. I can smell the fresh hint of cucumber from the product in his hair. I inhale deeply.

I gently push him off my shoulder. “You're such a mess, Grimm. We should get you to bed.” Dev topples over to his pillow and buries his face within it.

“You're always taking care of me, Niall...” he slurs out.

I can barely make out the words he says. I give him a light shake, to snap him out of this little spell. 

But he’s right. I  _ want _ to take care of him. I  _ want  _ to make sure he’s safe and happy and not losing his mind all the time. I want to remind him that he’s got me…  _ always _ . 

I make sure he's properly covered before getting up. His hand grips onto my arm, preventing me from going very far. He gives my arm a yank and I fall onto the bed, practically on top of him. I yelp and feel hot fire on my cheeks, my ears, my neck.

He drags the back of his hand over my arm. I don't want to admit to myself how good this feels. But the way he’s dragging his hand across my arm, sends small shivers down my arm, and covers me in goosebumps. 

I want to settle in closer to him. Feel his arms wrapping around my body and holding me close to him. I want to feel his heartbeat as I lay against his chest. 

I want Dev.

I want  _ all _ of Dev.

Maybe I should… just a little kiss. 

It won’t hurt.

“Niall... You mean  _ everything  _ to me. I'm not  _ me  _ without you…” he whispers and my heart aches… For him. 

I need to touch him... Just a little bit. 

I reach over (before my mind tells me to stop), and touch one of the curls on Dev's head. I absentmindedly twirl it around my fingers and just stare at him for a moment. Dev leans into my touch and sighs into my palm.

“Dev?” I ask him. He looks up at me, eyes half-closed.

“Mmmm?”

“What do you want?” I'm almost afraid to ask. My hands are clammy. The leg hanging off of the bed won't stop shaking, and I can feel my heart trying to push its way out of my chest.

Dev buries his head in his pillow and closes his eyes. He starts to say something, but I can barely hear him. I lean in closer. 

“What?”

"Mmmm… nn… lo...”

He starts to snore. He's completely wiped out.

Bloody perfect.

I get out of the bed and start to pace the room. I'm chewing my lip and rubbing furiously at my face. I can still feel the heat of his palm on my cheek.

What was he trying to tell me, before he dozed off? I wonder if I should wake him up and get to the bottom of this! 

I steal a glance at him. He’s snoring softly, hair covering his eyes.

Damn it… he looks so fucking  _ peaceful _ , I can’t wake him up,  _ now _ . 

I groan as I run my fingers through my hair (I’m not nearly as gentle with my hair as Dev was) ( _ Enough… Niall)  _ and sit down on the floor, still staring at Dev. __

I think I care about Dev more than I’ve led myself to believe. And as much as my brain wants me to deny it, I don’t think that I can anymore. 

After tonight, I think it’s safe to say that he cares about me to.

We’ll talk. Tomorrow. After we both had a chance to deal with our inevitable hangovers.

I place a bucket by Dev's bed and crawl into mine. I start to doze off almost immediately, letting the alcohol, and the memory of Dev’s smile overcome me. I find myself smiling into my pillow as I slip into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I hope the long wait was worth it for you guys. I had this idea in my head for a long time (especially the ending), and I think I carried it out pretty well. 
> 
> For those of you who decided to skip, here are some very brief notes on the chapter: 
> 
> \- Dev is doing a lot better since reconciling with Niall. His grades are improving, he's spending more time with Niall, and he's been going to football practices.  
> \- He gets called into Miss Possibelf's office. After a brief panic attack, he arrives in her office, to find that a letter has arrived from his mother. His brother's trial is being moved up.  
> \- Dev runs into Agatha, while trying to make it back to Mummers' House. She starts grilling him about where Baz is, and she figures out that he's missing (because of Dev's facial expressions).  
> \- Niall worries about Dev not showing up for supper.  
> \- Niall goes back to their room and sees Dev, hunched over on the floor.  
> \- He tries to comfort him, Dev gets stressed out. Niall decides to calm Dev down by giving him scotch and then going for a walk around the grounds.  
> \- Dev is only interested in the drinking part, and drinks more and more while toasting all the horrible things in his life.... Except Niall.  
> \- Dev gets really flirty with Niall (complimenting his eyes, touching his face and his hair). Niall panicks at first, but then gets kinda into it.  
> \- Niall realizes that he has feelings for Dev.  
> \- Dev nearly kisses Niall, but falls on his shoulder.  
> \- Niall makes sure Dev is in bed, but Dev pulls him onto him as he gets up.  
> \- They flirt a little more and Niall thinks about Dev's arms wrapping around him.  
> \- Dev whispers something unintelligible to Niall before falling alseep.  
> \- Niall gets annoyed, and wants to wake him up, but can't because he's so peaceful.  
> \- Niall gets into bed, resolved to talk about this with Dev tomorrow and lay everything out on the table.  
> \- Niall falls sleep, with a smile on his face, thinking about Dev.


	6. UPDATE on this fic

Hi everyone,

I'm going to start off by saying thank you to everyone who took the time to read this fic, to comment on it, to give it any kind of love. 

I started outlining this fic almost exactly a year ago to the day, and I was so excited to write my version of a DeNiall story, and shared that excitement with friends who also loved this pairing. 

I had it completely outlined within a month and the first 4 chapters written out in the span of a week. 

My excitement and love for this story no longer exists... 

I won't go into details about why or how it happened... it just did... and this is where I am today.

I have tried to continue writing it, even producing Chapter 5 and writing half of Chapter 6... but now... every time I open my draft, I feel like crying. 

So, this story is going on an indefinite hiatus. Like I said, I've lost my love for my version of DeNiall and even thinking about them in this context makes me sick to my stomach. This is a very difficult decision for me to make and I've spoken to several friends about this. I am not in the right headspace to continue writing DeNiall specific stories (don't worry, they'll still exist in my SnowBaz stories, and make several appearances in my COTTA fic).

I am so sorry to anyone who was hoping for an update from me... Maybe I'll come back to it, but I don't want to make any promises. 

I love you all...

BazzyBelle


End file.
